“Do you think that they would bother rowing a boat out against the current, knowing they could become rich by collecting the tears of the poplar?” The music that you can not hear is far sweeter than the music you can hear. Just like you say – the poplar tree on the bank of the Eridanos River continues to drip amber (the sister, mourning and lamenting over her brother, had been turned into a poplar tree, and continues to weep). The sailors firmly believed in this. However, after two or three minutes, they will no longer be in this world. Even on the brink of that, the amber is (to the sailors) without a doubt, amber. This never changes, not even one thousand years later. “The calm sea draws near the thoughts of a person, but a skilled sailor is never raised out of this calmness.” Just as you say, a young boy who has never even been near the sea picks up pebbles and skips them over the waves. “Why do you hesitate? What is in the water looks the same size as that which is transparent, although it always happens to be that it looks warped because of the light.” A voice appears among the waves, and disappears again (only its shoulder, illuminated by twilight, shimmers like milky-white scales). And then a voice, “Help.” Finally the boy throws off all of his clothes. All along there he had been seeing her face (which should not have been there).