Wednesday, 8 January 2014

Sea fever

One of the good things about having plenty of time in january is that there is time to go for a walk in the daylight on an ordinary weekday. Today I went to the coast for my walk. Than I came to think about the poem Sea Fever by John Masefield. I remember reading it when I lived in London many years ago, and at the time it suddenly made it clear what this longing I had inside was: I needed to go to the sea. I live in the city now also, but I have realised that the sea will never stop to draw med to it. I grew up by on a tiny island and it I realise it has marked me forever. In a good way that is.


Grey and windy, but no rain during my walk today. Perfect weather.



Sea fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield

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