29 August 2010

SUNDAY POETRY: "SONG"

(Photo from here.)

 
The bottom of the sea has come   
And builded in my noiseless room   
The fishes’ and the mermaids’ home,

Whose it is most, most hell to be   
Out of the heavy-hanging sea
And in the thin, thin changeable air

Or unroom sleep some other where;   
But play their coral violins   
Where waters most lock music in:

The bottom of my room, the sea.
Full of voiceless curtaindeep
There mermaid somnambules come sleep   
Where fluted half-lights show the way,

And there, there lost orchestras play   
And down the many quarterlights come   
To the dim mirth of my aquadrome:   
The bottom of my sea, the room.
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