I would turn the prow
to where it found the wind
rushing to fill the sails
with a shudder beneath my feet
as canvas bulged
striving to fly beyond,
to outstrip,
the sleek hull.
Many times have I seen men
go down in long deaths
of doldrums or, in sudden short-lived storms,
in syllabic shudderings of sails,
into torn silences.
Ah, but when the wind
was fair I could sail
my sleek craft
as strong as prayer
to where dolphins blindly leapt
with only sun and stars
to ’compass me,
buffeted by waves
not knowing where eventually
landfall might be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Two extremes the might of the sea and the soothing buoyancy so well drafted...experiencing the sail through this imagery..thanks for sharing
Thanks for your kind words, Seema. You have a generous heart.
Thanks for your kind words. You have a generous heart, Seema!