The Seafarer Poem by Charley Hensley

1


Let me calmly
Tell you the truth.

About myself,
About my journey.

How I wandered
And endured,

Weary at heart,
Afraid in my chest,

Steering my prow
In the heaving seas

Below the tall cliffs
In the dead of night.

My frozen feet are bound,
And shackled by frost,

Yet higher, my heart
Still burns with fever,

Only to be drowned
In a flood of tears,

So sick am I,
Of the sea.


2


You cannot know
Of this long winter,

Safe in your homes,
Where life is carefree,

While I, wretched
And sorrowful,

Cast myself into the waves.
Into lonely exile,

With none to call my own
But a necklace of ice,

And a ring
Of frozen hail.



3


I am stunned by the sea,
By the roar of the waves,

Once mistaking the laughter of friends,
And wet with joy,

I sang with the gannet,
And danced with the curlew,

And drank with the seagull.
Remembering the taste of wine!

While a tern spoke to me
Its feathers shrouded in ice,

And an eagle fell and screamed,
Downing its wings,

As the storm hurled
Its rage across the stony cliffs.



4


Nothing you say
Can comfort me.

You would not believe -
Lost in your mindless luxury,

In your city life,
With everything you need -

Where I have been,
What I have seen,

Beyond the human border,
Beyond the edge of terror.



5


When night falls,
Bringing snow from the north,

The ground turns to iron,
Coating me with sleet-breath.

The ice grains are chilling,
Yet my heart is even colder.

Hurrying me on and on
Across the rushing streams,

To battle with the seas,
To find a new world…

But no matter how proud
I am, however I am loved,

Whether I am generous,
Fierce or brave,

Wheresoever I wander,
I cannot forget my home.

And though there is no music,
No reward, no women,

No achievement, no glory,
Only the cold slap of the waves.

There is still such confusion and longing
In my riding of the seas.



6


Spring comes to the city.
Fields are green,

And life seems renewed.
‘I’ll make the same journey! ’,

You say, on a summer’s day,
‘Across the dead calm sea’.

But did you not hear the cuckoo’s cry?
Warning of the season’s change?

Even the wisest warrior

Without travelling the same
Winter paths into exile,

Cannot imagine a fate such as mine.


7


Even now my spirit leaves me.
And roams the world

Over the water.
It goes where the whales go,

Then returns to me,
Insatiable, still wondering,

Calling me out again,
Tempting me with a new journey.

And I cannot resist.
For on this earth

Where joys are so fleeting,
Life is all but dead.

Nothing lasts.
Either sickness, old age

Or war will find you
In your final hours.



8


But before you go,
Be sure to leave

On the lips of men
A life worth remembering:

Your struggle to be brave,
Your fight against evil,

Some goodness, even in the form
Of your ghost.

For great kings,
And emperors

No longer walk this earth,
And we are ruled only by the weak.

Glory has vanished
And our age darkened,

Our nobility has gone
And our minds are feeble.



9


So to men,
To the passing of time.

His skin has turned to wax,
As this old man laments

The laughter long gone.
His friends cold in the ground.

Now he searches for the veil
That leads to the other side.

For he cannot taste sweetness,
Nor feel pain,

Nor see, nor hear,
Nor hold in his hands

A single clear memory
Of the beauty of his life.


10


Bury me when I am gone.
But not with gold,

Not with honour,
Nor any great pride.

For the lies of my life
Will be clear in death.

You cannot fool God,
Nor change your destiny.

You can but be humble
And show love to all men

Friend and foe alike.
And pray that all might one day

Make the same journey
Across their sea to paradise.