Out of Nantucket by New England coast,
The mainsail is unfurled in a light breeze,
Jib waiting for an ocean breeze.
A starboard tack is not to be found;
The port tack somewhere around;
Island coast listless;
a setting before me.
The sloop Jeremiah rides the crest
At stately ocean rest.
The Captain's at the tiller,
His seaman down the cords;
The ships hull newly painted;
An artist draws.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful poem on wars category. Nicely shared on with message.