If you put your ear close to where the ocean waves sough, you’ll hear sand popping on the ebb.
I had never heard this arcane purl. Prior to today, I had only thought pebbles spoke, but no, the sand does, too…
Or maybe it’s the water in both instances?
Yes, on second thought, it’s the water that speaks.
If you take your lover to where the ocean waves sough, you’ll kiss like there never will be another tomorrow, and then you’ll remark on how romantic the ocean is, and your lover will say, “I told you. It’s therapeutic.”
Although Yukio Mishima’s The Sound of Waves seems like a straightforward title, it is actually quite ambiguous, for the sound of waves is two-part.
A single wave approaching the shore not only makes the crashing sound that we hear in relaxation tapes and when we walk along the shoreline, but it also makes a jet-like suction sound for those privileged enough to be swimming just under its path.
So, which is Mishima referring to? The sound of waves above or below the surface of the sea?