I am not afraid that Seaside will burn again,
but that its wreckage will go unnoticed,
like the pieces of a ship that sink
to be found years and years later,
the wives of the men are also dead,
the fallen ship long forgotten.
When Kohr Brothers burned for the first time
in 1955, fire embracing the wooden shops
on either side, two glowing arms
rose high above the restless sea.
It was the hottest summer.
Two years ago the store burned again,
flames spreading from the heart of the place,
licking the shops on either side.
Timber blackened like burnt chocolate.
By the third day,
beachgoers had stopped
stopping to look.
Today, a piece of wood,
wet and charred,
washes ashore.
I wonder, to which wreck does it belong?
but that its wreckage will go unnoticed,
like the pieces of a ship that sink
to be found years and years later,
the wives of the men are also dead,
the fallen ship long forgotten.
When Kohr Brothers burned for the first time
in 1955, fire embracing the wooden shops
on either side, two glowing arms
rose high above the restless sea.
It was the hottest summer.
Two years ago the store burned again,
flames spreading from the heart of the place,
licking the shops on either side.
Timber blackened like burnt chocolate.
By the third day,
beachgoers had stopped
stopping to look.
Today, a piece of wood,
wet and charred,
washes ashore.
I wonder, to which wreck does it belong?