Coromandel Fishers

Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!

No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives.

Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove,
And sweet are the sands at the full o' the moon with the sound of the voices we love;
But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild foam's glee;
Row, brothers, row to the edge of the verge, where the low sky mates with the sea.

by Sarojini Naidu

Comments (21)

Imagery immense…nice treat… Ten… Ms. Nivedita UK
'each one as unique as a poem thought'...truely wonderful poem
exquisite work m' smooth and tender.......great imagery. 10 all the way
a wonderful write..and once again, full of imagery as you can truly do it.Full of emotions poured out on this piece.
the depth of memories is simply not measurable, but your magical quill has managed to fathom those depths.
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