Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHIQUITA: A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEAS, by BARRETT EASTMAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHIQUITA: A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEAS, by                    
First Line: Her name? Chiquita. Ah, senor
Last Line: Farewell — forever! —
Subject(s): Legends; Pride; Self-esteem; Self-respect


HER name? Chiquita. Ah, senor,
See how the sea-weed winds around her!
Dead? Yes; for many an hour before
I came and found her.

The gentle waves had laid her down
Here on the sands, and heaped her over
With soft, sweet-smelling foam, and brown
Long-leaved sea clover.

And hark! The sea-birds sing her dirge,
And all the chorus of the ocean
Makes mournful music, surge on surge,
In sad devotion.

Last night she lay within these arms —
Her mother's arms, senor, no other —
And in her sleep beheld the charms
Of sleep's twin-brother.

I know, for while I watched her, tears
Gleamed in the low light of the embers;
And then she sighed the sigh one hears
And — one remembers.

From out her troubled lips words came
Mixed with the sigh — words wet with sorrow:
"I die for thee!" and then a name,
And then, "To-morrow" —

I did not understand, you see —
How could I tell her days were numbered?
But God had willed this thing to be
And I — I slumbered.

Well, now I find her dead and cold —
Senor, the story's old, but never
Castilian blood grows cold or old —
It burns hot ever.

Therefore I do not blame her — no,
Others have loved with song and laughter
And then, through loving, learned to know
What woe comes after.

Love is a glorious thing, senor,
When, in the dusk, guitars are playing
And on the smooth adobe floor
The dance is swaying —

But love is bitter when he goes
And days pass on and leave one weeping —
The sun has blighted many a rose
Given to his keeping.

Well, so the world was made, and I
Do not lament that darkness covers
The shining brightness of the sky
That smiles on lovers.

To me night came long years ago —
Night in whose gloom I often stumbled —
But pride sustained me still, although
My pride was humbled.

Pride in Chiquita — that was strong —
Pride in myself — there's none remaining:
This was my secret. Right or wrong,
I'm not complaining

That so it is, nor that all pride
Has left me now — all things are seeming;
And out there, rocking with the tide,
There is no dreaming —

Chiquita, daughter! We shall be
Racked by regret from henceforth never.
I seek the silence of the sea —
Farewell — forever! —





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