|
Talking, what's it good for? |
|
Absolutely nothing. |
|
Wrestle, let's wrestle. |
|
You can pin me to anything. |
|
Thought I saw you in the seaweed. |
|
Thought I saw you in a forest flame. |
|
I'll fill up the silence with the sound of your holy name. |
|
Knowledge of the sea-ways, knowledge of how the water flows. |
|
Whoever coined the phrase has never had to brave the snow. |
|
I climbed the shroud to the top-sail and |
|
I peeked through the glass. |
|
The curvature bisected by the wintry mizzen mast. |
|
The scar upon my stomach, |
|
I call it my |
|
Flying V.And every time |
|
I show it, |
|
I can feel your eyes on me. |
|
How many islands will surrender to the blunderbuss? |
|
And, how long must we sail before you show your face to us? |
|
Followed him out to the end of the pier."Don't come any closer," he cried, "I am afraidOf the man I'll become if I lay myLife down for a people that I don't even care for." |
|
Face to his face, |
|
I put myHand into his and |
|
I tried to tell him, "No,I've seen his work upon the panes of cathedrals,In the sweat of the workers and the flight of the seagulls." |
|
My words were drowned out by the sound |
|
Of the motors and rowers, the ship as it ran aground |
|
And from the trees came a thousand soldiers. |
|
I went down on my knees with a spear in my shoulder. |
|
About face, about face, |
|
I swam back |
|
To the Victoria. |
|
I shiver with the |
|
Memory, memory of the island dwellers |
|
And the indifferences of the |
|
Storyteller. |
