It was the same each time,
a ghost must live beneath,
that bridge of stone, stained
by a ton of droppings,
seagulls and frigate birds,
out of their territory, shouting
and frolicking, bad-mouthing
dugongs and fishes, loudly.
I should have listened to
my thoughts and fears,
before that fateful day.
When thirty tons of stone
all stained, and to the laughter
of gulls and frigate birds
fell into the stormy sea.
And they, without excuse,
took me.
Very good use the almighty metaphor....good stuff.
The metaphor of the bridge gathers the authority of the poem. In itself this is rare, and because of it, the poem is genuine, original, and compelling.
Is this your epitaph, Herbert? Good poem, but they'll have trouble carving all of it into the stone. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this. It has a hapless fatalism about it that puts the reader into a brief spell. Confusion: is the speaker someone who was standing on the bridge when it collapsed? I'm not always good at parsing obvious things like that.