Song of the seafarers (with thanks to the choir of San Vicente de la Barquera)
by poetrydiary
Once we were young and rose at dawn
to watch our fathers put to sea.
As jewelled boats merged into mist,
our grandmas sat us on their knee.
Dark sails once more against the moon;
and fishes idling near the quay.
We dreamed each night of their return,
and sang and sang to ease our way.
Then we were wed and rose at dawn
to kiss our young loves to their boats.
And walking slowly from the shore,
bright laughter echoed from our throats.
We threw our lines and scanned the waves –
your eyes shone out from every cloud –
we dreamed of home and planned new lives;
our sun-swept limbs stood tall and proud.
Dark sails once more against the moon;
and fishes idling near the quay.
We dreamed each night of your return,
and sang and sang to ease your way.
Our children played along the shore;
sailed past in toy ships made of shells.
You sang the slowing songs of whales;
we warmed calm village nights with tales.
Always our hearts yearned for your arms;
for children’s laughter warming hearths –
Far from the master’s urgent calls,
riding sharp spray through angry squalls.
Dark sails once more against the moon;
and fishes idling near the quay.
We dreamed each night of our return,
and sang and sang to ease our way.
And now our children set the sails –
We hold our grandsons on our knee.
The ebbing whitecaps in your hair
mirror the rhythms of the sea.
Dark sails once more against the moon;
and fishes idling near the quay.
We dream each night of our return,
and sing and sing to ease our way.
————
On the penultimate day of our holiday we went to a concert given by the local choirs in the 12th century church of San Vicente de la Barquera, a perfect and ancient natural harbour on the north coast of Spain. For their final piece, the conductor on impulse asked the choir to split into men and women and move out into either side of the nave, so that each half of the choir sang to the other over the top of the audience. I didn’t understand a word of the duet they sang, but it was the most moving and beautiful experience.
This poem is my re-imagining of the words of that duet. The women sing the verses on the left, the men on the right, and the ensemble sections are in the middle.
Posted on dVerse.
I love this.. what a wonderful song of sea, the bittersweetness of waiting, and aging… and yes the refrains worked excellent… the text made me think the fado I heard in Funchal once… I think it would work there too…
A beautiful choir of rhyming verses Matthew. . A poetic journey through life, from the child watching, now to seeing the children take sail. Love the presentation and refrain….and you are always welcome here in the pub~
A beautiful homage to a life spent on the sea. Just lovely.
I just love this – the way you wrote it worked beautifully.
I like this a lot. I like the way you structure the poem. It sort of resembled the swaying of the seas.
This is absolutely stunning a write 🙂
This is exquisite. I love the idea of the men’s voices on one side and the women’s on the other in your writing here. And the “ebbing whitecaps in your hair” — this reminds me that many of these men are “lost” at sea. The women left behind to pray and sing for their seafaring husbands are equally as brave.
Are you familiar with the Shakers? This is a very very old sect — very simplistic in their communal living, meals, furniture design. Although men and women are “created equal” in the eyes of God and in the Shaker movement, the men and women do sit on either side of their simple wooden church building and sing…and they sit at opposite ends of long tables for meals. Their religion is one of celibacy and as you can imagine, it is now almost died out. I believe their are but 4 or 5 Shakers left…but their movement lives on. If you google Kevin Siegfried, you will find some of their wonderful music that he has revived.
Again, thank you for a beautiful post.
Thank you very much Lillian – I really appreciate your comments. I’ve looked up Kevin Siegfried, and you’re right – it’s lovely music, although much simpler and more austere than my Spanish friends – I don’t think they stay apart for very long!
Beautiful piece. The cycle of life, the cycle of the sea are nice woven together.
Exquisite and fulfilling.