"What are you selling, muddy young woman? With your breasts exposed? Sir, I sell the water Of the seas. What are you carrying, dark youth Mixed with your blood? Sir, I carry the water Of the seas. These saline tears, Whence do they come, Mother? Sir, I weap the water Of the seas. Dear one; and this earnest Bitterness – of what is it born? Very bitter is the water Of the seas. The sea Smiles from far off Teeth of foam Lips of sky." (Federico García Lorca)