A Sailor's Story, Journey By The Sea. - Poem by Jose Lu
The Secrets of the sea
The Essence of the storm
The Lessons from the waves
It's what they know from the seas that they roamed by
They'd never care
The death in the sea is honor for then
To roam, to row an endless journey
With their steel tanned arms
Which have burned by the sun,
They wander, bringing the scent of the sea in their clothes
Rowing miles and miles, they depend on their eagle eyes
To many seas, with unknown islands
Discover new reigns and lands.
They've learned from the sky,
To remote constellation and patterns
To tame storms, to raise their sails
To the wind, they had learned
To where the boat will go on
To the lands of unknown
From the waves, they learned
To make their boats tougher
The rage and the calm, to row with their arms
From the sea, they've learned
For the fish and their regions,
How to tame them, and told tales from them
Their boat, it's thousand years old
It's ancient, as their ancestors said
The woods, they have sworn with the history,
To be tougher than the waves by times.
To conquer the oceans,
To sprinkled the lessons from the seas.
Some never pass, and the ones who get crashed,
Their bones have been crushed by winds,
The waves, it had stiffen their muscles,
They not survived,
Nor in boat or the sea.
The sea, will have claimed their bodies.
The calm water is friend for them,
And when storms claimed the sky, when the waves are as the boat's height
They've learned, to tame them and not crashed.
Months and year,
maybe their hair is whitening,
And one by one will falling,
But they had known
Their new generations will took their boats,
Steering the wheel and oars,
lines of new army will begin.
To tame the waves and storms,
To tame the oceans,
Spreading the world, for the lessons from the seas, to roam the seas
Comments about A Sailor's Story, Journey By The Sea. by Jose Lu
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye