H
Himalayen hermit (h2)
Guest
this one of the poem i wrote 7 year ago, its first poetical attempt of mine .
i would like to leave it as a open subject for fair and liberal critism.
I
I am in a ship
I have to sail, or else let myself to dip
The sea is lurid, like a struggle of love
Strom comes and sweeps, crow, kite and dove
Night is dark and, surf are higher then sky
My soul is bright, peeping where the last island lie.
I stand affirm, licking my salty lips.
II
Moon is not casting his light, nor star shine
My ship is barren, and keel loosen
My mast torn by wind, but to sail, I chosen
The voyage when set, I could return
But when I am in ocean, sail I learn
Whether I get sea-bed grave, or unknown memorial of cliff
III
Again when stop rain, I sow moon dodged by stars
I turn my eyes to my aim, and count bodies’ scars
Which made by time, and remembered the commotion
When volt shocked my old compass as well as emotion
I looks at cold deck and, walk with pride
I catch the glimpse of those great mariners, “bravo” I cried
Yet the Neptune still whip
IV
I raised my head and saw the polar star
As like god burnt him, on my victory in war
Like the belief of a paramour, and I behold
My coast running toward me, or I am shivering with cold
I am at my resolution, in far north vessel are going
Light house shining and gentle wind blowing
And now I became ship
--H2
i would like to leave it as a open subject for fair and liberal critism.
I
I am in a ship
I have to sail, or else let myself to dip
The sea is lurid, like a struggle of love
Strom comes and sweeps, crow, kite and dove
Night is dark and, surf are higher then sky
My soul is bright, peeping where the last island lie.
I stand affirm, licking my salty lips.
II
Moon is not casting his light, nor star shine
My ship is barren, and keel loosen
My mast torn by wind, but to sail, I chosen
The voyage when set, I could return
But when I am in ocean, sail I learn
Whether I get sea-bed grave, or unknown memorial of cliff
III
Again when stop rain, I sow moon dodged by stars
I turn my eyes to my aim, and count bodies’ scars
Which made by time, and remembered the commotion
When volt shocked my old compass as well as emotion
I looks at cold deck and, walk with pride
I catch the glimpse of those great mariners, “bravo” I cried
Yet the Neptune still whip
IV
I raised my head and saw the polar star
As like god burnt him, on my victory in war
Like the belief of a paramour, and I behold
My coast running toward me, or I am shivering with cold
I am at my resolution, in far north vessel are going
Light house shining and gentle wind blowing
And now I became ship
--H2