the sequel to a ship in the harbour

 

Up from the depths
I rise
From the city of Ys
We dance the festival of the moon tonight,
The city lights
Burn without flame in the depths of the sea
Kindled and glowing and golden green
Brightly, brightly
And all the bells of the city of Ys
Ring out tonight
Under the sea, in the depths of the sea
And our sky is a silver canopy
To hide us all from the  envious eyes
Of the drylanders, the surface people
While we dance a slow Saraband
To the music of bronzen bells in the deep
Clothed in cloud garments of floating hair
But look! Across the sky  a glowing trail
As if of a comet passing by
I shall see, and so I rise, while all about me
Voices warn
You were always too curious, remember how
You were trapped before
Long years of exile, in the glare of the dryland sun
They warn, and yet I go
I will only look, and see this thing so near to us
Up to the glittering mesh of the moon washed waves
I part the curtain and peer out
In the sudden stillness , the rush of air , and the
Sky all black cold jewels of stars, the moon suddenly far away
And lonely, lonely
It is a drylander ship, a craft
Such as they make, with all sails set
Moving wallowing over the sea, leaving behind
Green glowing rumour in the tiny worlds
Of the upper waves
I hear the complaint of fibres wind stretched
Plaited and bound to the will of men
And the guttural bark and drone, mouth noises
That serve these for speech
Oh, I remember
And there in the windows of that house-thing
Lit by the stink of burning oil
A shape I know
And what has drawn him, ravisher thief
Jailer and collector of bodies and lives
So near, so near to the secret place
The city of Ys where no man comes
I have but to stretch forth my hand
And call in the old way each to each
And up from the depths the Great One comes
Whose  blood he burns in his futile lamp
To rend and smash and let in the sea
They will tumble like dolls in the rush of  the sea
Helpless like chaff in the hungry sea
Then ,oh Then he shall come home with ME…
Ah! And rocked in the calm arms
Of the moon washed deep
I watch as the ship sails slowly by
And the fire of its path dies soft away and becomes
No more than the moon on the water
And below me the glow of the city lights
He never blind fool could see and I
Sweep closed the curtain of the waves
Return to the deep and in my ears
The bronzen bells chime in slow saraband
And voices of my people each to each
Murmur and mingle, rise and fall
Welcoming  me home

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