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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE VOYAGE, by CLIFFORD GESSLER Poet's Biography First Line: Don't let them fool you, said the tough old sailor Last Line: "a pipe, and a glass, and a girl at the run's end." | |||
"Don't let them fool you," said the tough old sailor, "The sea's nothing but a lot of hard, dirty work!" ... Hands rough and black with hauling on the anchor-chain; faces burnt with wind and sun, grimy with the enginegrease; sloshing seas on slippery decks, wet and cold and wearied through, still we met the wind and rain with singing and with laughter; Here's to those can take it, avast with those who shirk! Night by night the Southern Cross burned higher overhead; day by day the flying-fishes flagged us as they fled; green lagoons lit signal lights against the mounting clouds and the red-rimmed coral islands glowed with dawn. "Don't let them fool you," said the gruff old sailor, "The sea takes everything you've got, and laughs to see it gone!" "A ship's like a woman," said the hard old sailor, "No two alike, and never one is twice the same ..." Sleeping in the focs'l, lungs foul with engine-fume; standing watch, six on, six off, tugging at the wheel; dancing naked on the deck to feel the blessed sting of rain; fishing from the stern, and shooting sharks that followed after; bucking seas that shook her ribs, and drenched us as they came. Sly she dragged her anchor in the long lagoon, a windy night; hours we fought in blinding rain and thunder and the flashing light; we hauled her off the reef to the chanting of the savages -- the king came out with all his men and moved her with a song! "A ship's like a woman," said the scarred old sailor, "Watch her every minute, or she's bound to do you wrong!" "Three things are good," said the tough old sailor -- "Women, rum, tobacco; and the rest is wasted breath!" ... Creeping up at night, in the mist, on lonely islands, listening, with engine stopped, for surf along the reef; casting lights alongside to guess which way the current lay, harking to the low cries of sea-birds flying over -- down among the Low Isles, playing tag with Death! And there were nights ashore: the palms all drenched in silver; ghost-fire dripping, glowing from the oars, rowing in; laughing girls to dance with, in fragrant wreaths of jasmine; gay guitars and singing, and lips that called us friend. "Just three things are good," said the rough old sailor, "A pipe, and a glass, and a girl at the run's end." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DARK BAMBOOS by CLIFFORD GESSLER DARK WISDOM by CLIFFORD GESSLER HAUNTED ISLAND by CLIFFORD GESSLER HAWAIIAN SERENADE by CLIFFORD GESSLER NEVERTHELESS by CLIFFORD GESSLER NIGHT ON THE ATOLL by CLIFFORD GESSLER PAPEETE WATERFRONT by CLIFFORD GESSLER SACRED VALLEY by CLIFFORD GESSLER STAR-DANCERS by CLIFFORD GESSLER THE LIFE OF THE LAND IS ESTABLISHED IN RIGHTEOUSNESS by CLIFFORD GESSLER THE MISSIONARY'S SON WRITES IN HIS DIARY by CLIFFORD GESSLER |
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