Sonntag, 16. August 2009
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a sea-lodge and a star to look down shy,
And the wind's kick and the wind's song and the white flag'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.
By John Masefield (1878-1967, English Poet Laureate 1930-1967)
(Ich habe die erste Strophe etwas verändert)