A sea was that on which their ship they led
Like a serene expanse of emerald:
Perturbed was not by wind or wave and had
Foam curls by the sunshine woven with gold.
Yet turned the water from grass-green to red
At dusk, when the sky ceased to burn and scald,
And as the pall of night did slowly approach
The shrieks of the gulls sounded like reproach:
“…Why did’st thou hither reach, o mortal stock?
So far you threw yourself…were not enough
For thee the green ad fertile fields, the flock,
The sweetest honey? Why you spilled the laugh
From our mother Sea its gates to unlock?
Why did you ravish her with hand so rough?
Your keel and oar have raped her womb, then we
Shall wail and weep her lost virginity…"
Each night beneath the moon the spirits wailed
While hovering above the silken main,
Accompanying their path as on they sailed:
They cursed the encroachers of their old domain
As many in number their ship slowly trailed.
But would, alas!, atone not for the slain
The Three, for they the fatal plague could know
Not which their ship on the wide seas did blow.
“Farewell, o beloved sea: it’s time to die!”
Sang creatures sadly rising from the wave
As their long necks they waved beneath the sky.
“The seas which were our cradle now our grave
Become. Farewell, our sea!” - Thus they did cry.
“Our age will fade into that of the brave
Humanity, but the warm blood men spill
Does always fall back on the ones who kill.”