Into the dusk of the East,
Gray with the coming of night,
This may we know at least–
After the night comes light!
Over the mariners’ graves,
Grim in the depths below,
Buoyantly breasting the waves,
Into the East we go.
On to a distant strand,
Wonderful, far, unseen,
On to a stranger land,
Skimming the seas between;
On through the days and nights,
Hope in each sailor’s breast,
On till the harbor lights
Flash on the shores of rest!
J. H. Jowett.
***featured images by Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky
Thank you for your post Adrienne.
(Why Armenian art?)
🙂
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One can never get enough of Armenian art (or Armenian food). 🙂
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Interesting. I had a few Armenian high school friends. Don’t know more. New avenues to explore. Thank you Adrienne. And a lovely week.
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A sailor’s life was incredibly dangerous and demanding, still is for many, especially those who are fishermen on relatively small vessels. Some people are compelled by the yen to explore new places. and the sea is always a new place. The image is gorgeous and violent, reminds me how easily I get seasick.
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I’m afraid of the ocean. We vacationed on the Jersey shore every summer and I enjoyed dodging the waves but it was still terrifying. I’d sit beside my father in silence for hours in the evenings just looking out over the vast waters.
My husband was a nuclear submarine sailor. I don’t know how he did it–days and months with no sunshine, tiny spaces, short showers, weird hours. It sickens me even thinking about being trapped underwater.
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Thank you for this. Intriguing poem and artwork.
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You’re welcome, Cynthia. Have a wonderful holiday season.
A
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