A certain young Sea-Voyager,
Came up to the Pier and told
His Cheeky Friends this Torried Tale:
The Waters of the Deep were nice and warm,
Covered with streaks of Blue and Green.
The Early Morning Clouds, aye, like Doves fluttered
Travelled towards the Stream.
As I started to set sail on me Dinghy
I thought of my only Destination:
THE ISLAND.
Like a Palace, A rich, royal Palace
Covered with a fresh, algaed Moat.
Then, soonafter, do I unfurl the Mast,
Making sure that my last sight of Land
Was last.
I checked the Hour - mid-noon half-past,
Fine. Which should keep my eyes against Beery Rocks.
A Fare-Thee-Well did I wave then
To me Friendly Colleagues
Who then, in turn, has sent me Wishes and Luck
As me Dinghy sails towards nearby Sea-Reds
I would now have known that my Heart got struck.
I have observed the Brightest of Skies,
And the finest Gull's calls.
The Glaring Heat of our Neighbourhood Star
Yet none of them to me eyes came Dull.
And so on-and-one for Days and Nights,
Did I journey to reach me Goal.
With me trusty Cockrel besides me
As me only, hopeful, depending role:
THE SAILOR.
A Trained One, with the Wits of a Tailour.
Haply me Troublesome Aide.
The Food I ate was quite bubbly-tasty
From the are-born Sea, thank you.
Smoked Mackerel and Charred Barnacles,
MUNCH! MUNCH! Me kind of Dainty.
After the Tasty Meal
I checked me Coordinates,
Making sure that me Directions were exact.
And keeping me Moods in Delight
I screened the Four Eldered Winds:
NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST,
Certain that be on of those Directions
Which be best to search
Where the precious Land-Bounty lurks?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem