I know: from flesh A flower can be made; From the power of love A sky --- and a child!

I found a golden seashell on the beach.

It is massive, and embroidered with the finest pearls.

Europa touched it with her sacred hands

As she rode the waves astride the celestial bull.

I raised that sounding seashell to my lips

To rouse the echoes of the ocean’s reveilles,

And pressed it to ear and heard the blue

Fathoms whisper the secret of their treasures.

Let us in we only want to work, work

In Europa.

Hence, I have tasted the salt of the bitter winds, 

Boat with no motor or sail,

Let us in we only want to work, work

In your Country.

The star were in love with them all but,

Only us in Europa, we draw the winning

Lottery.

Therefore, I hear a murmur of waves and an 

Unknown voice and a vast tide-swell

And a mysterious wind---

Spoken we need help we haven’t win the lottery…