I once saw, where the horizon ends,
a ship ploughed the sky.
White tears on pale blue,
I saw the waiting darkness;
I knew, before any others,
it would be a starlit night.
Look, I said, but it was too late,
the ship had cast anchor
behind a cloud loading mist
for Dogger Banks,
and take onboard discarded dreams to plug
the dikes of Amsterdam.
Sunflowers on mythical sea
and red flying fish,
my ship is bound for the Saragossa Sea with
cargo of old sailors,
here they come to stalk in fog of the forgotten.
