The Calm Of The Sea

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The flag on the pavilion barely stirs,
The water quivers gently in the sun
Like some young promised maiden dreaming on,
Half-waking, of the joy that shall be hers,
The sails upon the masts' bare cylinders
Are furled like banners when the war is done;
The ship rocks, chained on waters halcyon,
With idle sailors, laughing passengers.
O sea, among thy happy creatures, deep
Below, a polyp slumbers through the storm,
Its long arms ever lifted, poised to dart.
O thought, the hydra, memory, asleep
Through evil days, in peace will lift its form
And plunge its talons in thy quiet heart.

© Adam Mickiewicz