THE FINAL SAILING
by: Sev Meyer
With stirring winds 'neath crescent moon,
Her sagging sails sighed.
Her rotted riggings rattled,
She left with evening's tide.
The aged crew, with craggy smiles,
On savored salty seas.
'Gain rode revived, renewed,
That ship, hewn from the trees.
She'd make this run, her last for sure,
Through murky, choppy waters,
Through dreamlike days and darkness,
Missing wives, and sons and daughters.
If all goes well, her berth she'll find,
Now freed from fearful fate.
Now freed from youthful yearnings,
She'll breech Poseidon's gate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem