Friday, May 3, 2013

Life from the shore

The gentle tides have led me back to mellow shores
where I can live and breed in unforcing times,
through love and friends and the pleasure
of the deeds that form the path I'll leave unmarked.

And with two feet on the welcomed ground,
my eyes shall stare at the waves and the ships,
and the drowning, the swimmers and the drowned,
uncomfortable, desperate, but living through their time.

How will the old shoreman look upon his past?
Do the soft memories have the might to spark
a tender smile on the face whose eyes once hoped
to witness the storms, the wrecks and the wonders of age?

Old shoreman casts doubts on his still unravelled past.
The pirate boy cries for the life he's lost.
The shoreman sinks his toes in the warm sand,
and reckons he missed the things he loved the most.


Are you at sea or walking the shores? How will your Old Shoreman look back on his past?
Please leave your comments, feelings and feedback in the comment section below.



Today's Blackprint Poetry's recommendation:

Paul Tobin is an author and poet who reflects his need to write in his blog: Magpie Bridge. I've read some interesting reflections and reworks on his own poems there, and it really makes you feel as a part of the creative process. Make sure to check him out!

See you next time

2 comments:

Juan Pablo Djeredjian said...

Spanish translation:

Las mareas suaves me han traído de nuevo a estas orillas
donde podré vivir y procrear en tiempos de paz
a través del amor y la familia y el placer
de los hechos que forman el camino que dejaré sin marcar.

Y con los dos pies en la bienvenida tierra,
mis ojos girarán hacia las olas y los barcos,
hacia los que se ahogan, los nadadores y los ahogados,
incómodos, desesperados, pero viviendo su tiempo.

¿Cómo recordará el viejo de la orilla su pasado?
¿Tendrán los gentiles recuerdos el poder para despertar
una tierna sonrisa en el rostro cuyos ojos esperaban
presenciar las tormentas, los naufragios y las maravillas de la época?

El viejo de la orilla duda sobre su pasado aún desenvuelto.
El joven pirata clama por la vida que ha perdido.
En la orilla, el viejo hunde sus pies en la arena caliente,
y reconoce que perdió las cosas que más amaba.

Anonymous said...

This poem is very interesting it changed my outlook on the way we need to live.
Thank you for this experience Juan Pablo