It’s Sweet to Die at Sea Today the Sun is gently kissing Sea. A glint of light upon the vaunting swells, A fish half-glimpsed in flight beneath the green. Today we throw ourselves on violent Winds. A flash of sail upon the lost horizon, The beat to quarters drumming through our guns. The day we sailed our mothers wept and waved, It’s good to die at Sea. Our fathers stood as tall and straight as masts, It’s sweet to die at Sea. The Spanish troll the Ocean’s reach for gold, Their Empire will not feed itself, nor keep Against the Dutch, who ever sail for trade. The Portuguese must wander every water And navigate the world for World’s sake. The French want merely passage here to there. I love the Sea as I love powder’s power, My heart is pure as shot, as fire and hail. My English will’s to rule the Ocean’s waves. My heart is pure, and even is my keel. Sadness is not as dreadful as
Really excellent, Joffre. And thank you for including more of your war poetry below. I will be browsing through those when I have the time to be sure
Thank you! It’s pleasing to know you’ll be browsing through more.