Robert Graves (1895–1985). Fairies and Fusiliers. 1918.
25. I Wonder What it Feels Like to be Drowned?
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That island rising from the steamy seas!
The candles a tall lightship; my two hands
Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,
With mighty cliffs all round;
They’re full of wine and riches from far lands.…
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
By lifting up the island and huge waves
And storms, and then with head and ears well under
Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,
A bull-of-Bashan sound.
The seas run high and the boats split asunder.…
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
And slithers like a shark under the ships.
My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect
Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked.
The soap slides round and round;
He’s biting the old sailors, I expect.…
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?