‘Seasong’ and Other Poetry by Mandy Moe Pwint Tu The Society June 15, 2014 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 5 Comments Seasong I heard the wreathéd coral horn That Triton blew, and less forlorn Did suddenly I feel: I heard the sirensong afar I launched a ship and tracked a star How soon my heart did heal! I saw the shade of Hy Brasil, And what delight within me filled To find the Faery-land! I would have halted, but the mists Did swirl and whirl and coil and twist ‘Round the perilous strand. On I sailed, under lonely skies Under lonely stars that winked their eyes And watched me at the helm: The sea, a lonely maiden, sighed And whispered soft her empty lies That fooled this mortal realm. The sea is a maiden, they say Unpredictable, night or day Trust not her smiling face; Loneliness is a mask she wears, Mystery is the crown she bears But in her heart, there’s rage. I thought I drowned, and in a dream I saw a great serpentine queen Who lived under the sea; And then I heard the mermaid’s song, And listened to it an hour long For she did sing for me. Her song was of pain and sorrow, Of love that n’er saw the morrow, And tears that long were wept; And in a thousand stars she saw Written an invisible door That I had never mapped. Her love had wings, she sang, he flew Into that starry door of blue And never did return: Although she called his name that night And waited ‘till the dawn’s first light Upon her pale face burned. Then her tone did change to anger, Then I heard the sound of thunder Clapping in the distance; And maddened, she did shout and scream, I was afeared, though ‘twas a dream, Then she uttered silence. Now I heard the sirens calling, And I heard the sea-gods brawling Over some fickle thing; Proteus, I saw him transform From a seal into a man, adorned With shells and seaweed strings. My eyes did open; I awoke To the dawn that new had broke East of the wailing sea; Upon the shore my head did rest I rose and gazed into the west Where foam and spray danced free. Triton’s horn sounded, and the Star Beckoned to me from leagues afar, The Sea herself did sing The strain of a some familiar tune That once I heard beneath the moon Now in my heart did ring. To Wordsworth Wordsworth, I pray thee, return to this mortal land – Heaven can spare thee. The angels will understand. Earth has greater need of thee. Thine words are read, but no longer heeded; Humanity is cold; into “reason” receded. There is no living voice as loud to awaken These “logical” hearts; whom thought has forsaken. They desire truth, but they decide it; They desire beauty, and they design it. The world is cold, so grey and dark now; Wordsworth, I pray thee, liven it somehow. Grasp a secret from the whispering trees Capture an echo from the roaring seas, Find a dewdrop on a budding rose And tell them of these, that they shall know. Teach them to marvel at the butterfly, Which sleeps a worm, and wakens to the sky; Remind them of beauty in the mundane, Bid them to rescue that which might not remain. Give them a song that they must listen, Hand them a story from the stars that glisten; Whisper to them an Elysian verse That mayhap Keats had oft rehearsed: Show them a dream that they will not abandon, Write them a skyline, a broader horizon; Learn them to see with enlightened eyes That they release contented sighs. So Wordsworth, I pray thee, return to this mortal land – Heaven can spare thee. The angels will understand. Earth has greater need of thee. Mandy Moe Pwint Tu is a Burmese poet studying in Australia. Featured Image: “Schooner in Fairhaven Harbor Sunrise” by William Bradford (1823-1892). NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 5 Responses NealD June 15, 2014 Seasong is the most musical poem I can recall outside of Tolkien. Burma & Australia at the very least are represented here as attractive, compelling and rhythmic locales. Reply Mandy Tu July 18, 2014 Oh my gosh, thank you, it means so much, you have no idea. I’m an avid fan of Tolkien’s works 🙂 Reply Katy June 15, 2014 Both of these are wonderful. Reply Mandy Tu July 18, 2014 Thank you, you’re too kind. Reply Alvaro November 30, 2014 Mandy, dont ask me how I came across this, I do not know! But these are amazing! 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