Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
-- Robert Louis Stevenson --
Death of an Old Seaman
We buried him high on a windy hill,
But his soul went out to sea.
I know, for I heard, when all was still,
His sea-soul say to me:
Put no tombstone at my head,
For here I do not make my bed.
Strew no flowers on my grave,
I've gone back to the wind and wave.
Do not, do not weep for me,
For I am happy with my sea.
-- Langston Hughes --
from The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes
Arnold Rampersad, Editor
It almost seems as though Hughes' poem is a response to Stevenson's. Some days I'm with Stevenson, but on other days, well, Hughes seems right for me. Actually I'm of two minds here: both seem right and fitting when I read them.
Showing posts with label Death of an Old Seaman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death of an Old Seaman. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
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