- Maria Quarta 2 Poem by Georgios Venetopoulos

Maria Quarta

Maria Quarta bears up round,
on westward trip, before Gregale,
she helms a-weather to propound
concave's the mizzen and main sail.

She bears up west, the last four days,
a-straight her route at two-thirty,
departs on large her knotted chase,
with foremast full, conducting steady.

She sails away, to side the wind,
thus to avoid opposing sea,
with square her sails and routes winged,
Maria Quarta - on ocean flees.

A ghostly steersman's on the rudder
a drunken crew upon dead water,
they hoarsely sing and voice-shudder,
ten bearded fools, aboard, totter.

On ghostly transfer, booze belays,
the galley sails away fore'er,
comradely hazed her crew in craze,
the pilot's apt in stormy weather.

Their trip conducts to western lands,
for four odd years, en-route to void,
some endless vastness this Atlantic,
the drunken men best to avoid.

Four hundred years on links arcane,
aright maintain main sail and rope,
devoted to the Queen of Spain,
Maria Quarta's sea-men tope.