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The Sea

February 9, 2019


My restless soul wakens

As the town’s vespers

Ascend the stairless sky

And the sea whispers.


The rushing waves arrive

On the craggy shores                                

Of a desolate isle

And the sea whispers.                                     


Like the mariner's song

Or an ancient dirge,

Which the paling waves hum

As the sea-storms surge.


Through the hidden grottoes
And cavern waters 
Lie the countless demesnes
Through which she whispers.


Like some magic seashell

On an antique shore

Echoing, a thousand words

Of sage-like lore.


Over the dark Earth's sod,

Of sunken treasures

And ships long forgotten

She quiet whispers.


Like a forlorn nymph

Who weeps and shivers

In her hallowed grots,

And sacred rivers— 


Hoping for love’s tidings,

Her quiet vespers,

Upon the boundless seas,

She softly whispers.


Like a beautiful swan

With its broken wings,

Whose delicate soul flies

As the night-tide sings.


So my dreaming spirit,

Slumber enters,

As the clouds veil the moon,

And the sea whispers.



David is a translator, poet and linguist based in Montreal.

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