( 4 ) THE WRECK

Its huge red prow

Uplifted in a tragic attitude,

It waits out there; the seas around

Bubble and hiss with moaning sound:

In sight of port at the gates of the sea,

It waits upreared expectantly.

It has known the joy of battle,

It has known the shock of wreck:

The spray coated its planking,

The sands swallow its deck:

Monument of the sea,

That knows and that forgets eternally.

It heaves its scarred brow towards the city:

The city pays it little heed:

Indifferent, brutal, without pity,

Stern cargo-steamers trudge and speed;

The sun glares on it and the gulls wheel and flash,

The rain beats on its deck, the winds pass silently;

It is out there alone with the immense sea:

Alone with its forgotten tragedy.