Seven Ships Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

There are seven ships left in the harbour
seven ships and not a single flower
All of that water, what's the matter?
Does it hate perfume? Why no bright colors?

Tiny naked stones overwhelm you with their sadness
the black empty shells infuse you with their gloom
Doesn't a single love-struck woman stroll here?
Not one poet demented by illusions?

Doesn't someone else want to see the ocean
as a diminutive copy of a garden?
See roses climbing up along the rough rocks,
a jasimine blossoming in springs currents?

If the ocean doesn't love plants, it would never love birds,
it will never know nothing of music, rhyming or love.
It'll never hear a kiss or a piano,
seven ships and not a single flower!