THE BOTTLE AT SEA Poem by Maurice Gilliams

Son navire est coulé, sa vie est révolue:
Il lance la Bouteille à la mer, et salue
Les jours de l'avenir qui pour lui sont venus.
ALFRED DE VIGNY
The bleak profusion of the blood
brought mind and gut no stable stock.
We are created out of pride,
out of confusion and bad luck.

*

I fixed my eyes till it was in vain.
This blind pearl I did retain
- here, on the island, blossoms spring;
the pleasure of my hearth's a monkey's gain.

*

A lonely man grows fat in bed.
He bites his nails and cries, all sad.
Fleas and specters make him swear.
And he gets lost in swirling depths.

*

The stars move and advance
above my bold and sad existence.
My sleepless eyes discern no end,
but in me the End commences.

*

To marl you offer sun and rain
(your benevolence is rarely famed!)
- Breeches, or bread, a place for the night
many a child did never obtain.

*

A woman had to watch my attire
while I faced dream dragons in a fight.
Down I came from the blade on the grass.
There she sat sweetly lighting some fire.

*

Let me warm my feet, son.
Moon and wind made me all numb.
A man chews turnips his whole life
behind the roses of his passion.

*

The void along the stars gapes deep.
My heart is an emptier void asleep.
- Ah, mother, do not call me into being:
in grieving it is grief that you will reap.