This water, like a sky that no one uses,
Air turns to stone, ridden by stars and birds
No longer, but with clouds of crystal swimming,
I'll not forget, nor men can lose, through words
Dissolve with music, gradually dimming.
So let them die; whatever the mind loses,
Water remains, cables and bells remain
Night comes, the sailors burn their riding-lamps,
And strangers, pitching on our graves their camps,
Will break through branches to the surf again.
Darkness comes down. The Harbour shakes its mane,
Glazed with a leaf of amber; lights appear
Like thieves too early, dropping their swag by night,
Red, gold and green, down trap-doors glassy-clear,
And lanterns over Pinchgut float with light
Where they have so long lain.
All this will last, but I who gaze must go
On water stranger and less clear, and melt
With flesh away; and stars that I have felt,
And loved, shall shine for eyes I do not know.
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Author Notes
Australian English is used and the poem is written through the non-existent eyes of Sydney Harbour. The shores of Sydney Harbour was my playground when I was a child - she is loved all over the world today.
Swag: bed roll for sleeping
Pinchgut: A small island in the middle of the harbour that was used ages ago for prisoners - today, a tourist stop on the way across the most beautiful harbour in the world. Pinchgut was so named for the seagulls that stole fish bait that the prisoners used to catch fish. Australians spell differently to Americans, thus...Sydney Harbour.
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