Sea fever

This is from John Masefield. I found it while i was serching for sea poems. Although I'm not the author I think I'll dedicate the following lines to her who has driven me to the ocean of her eyes.


I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.


Now, this its mine:

Escucho tu voz
de canción de invierno.
Me subo en tu torre
a mirar el paisaje
de hielos perpetuos,
de rostros terribles y bellos,
de ojos de Circe,
de naufragio inminente.

Eres un árbol sordo
que extiende las ramas
hasta las profundidades
de lo que no he dicho nunca.

[Even if It's seems obvious, I'm must say that the poem It's not over yet. I'm working on in it.]


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