The three of them sat before the window looking at the seaone talked about the sea. The second listened/ the third neither spoke nor listened. He was deep in the sea; he floated behind the window panes, his movements were slow. Clear in the thin pale blue. He was exploring a sunken ship. He rang the dead bell for the watch; fine bubbles rose bursting with a soft sound- suddenly ‘Did he drown?’ asked one; the other said: ‘He drowned.’ The third one looked at them helpless from the bottom of the sea the way one looks at drowned people.
The Third One- Yannis Ritsos