dboodoofortune
03-07-2007, 08:06 PM
Hi everyone
I have a presentation based upon the poem "Fragment of a memory" by Martin Carter. I have alot of ideas about this poem already, but I am open to considering any new ideas. It's not a very well known poem so i am going to post it right here...
We have a sea on this shore
Whole waves of foam groan out perpetually
In the ships coming, in the black slaves dying
in the hot sun burning down
we bear a mark no shower of tears can shift
On the bed of the ocean bones alone remain
rolling like pebbles drowned in many years
From the beginning of ships
there was always someone who wept when sails were lost.
Perhaps the brown Phoenician woman cried
and cried again because a ship went down
Or then some Grecian boy with swollen eyes
looked for his father and only saw the sea...
There must be in some tale telling of a wife
who bred a son upon the Spanish coast
then died before her sailor husband came...
From the beginning of ships
the sea was always making misery
water and waver, water and wave again
On life the ocean stained with memory
where are the ships?
But none can say today.
The ships are gone and men remain to show
with a strong black skin what course those keels had cut
I have a presentation based upon the poem "Fragment of a memory" by Martin Carter. I have alot of ideas about this poem already, but I am open to considering any new ideas. It's not a very well known poem so i am going to post it right here...
We have a sea on this shore
Whole waves of foam groan out perpetually
In the ships coming, in the black slaves dying
in the hot sun burning down
we bear a mark no shower of tears can shift
On the bed of the ocean bones alone remain
rolling like pebbles drowned in many years
From the beginning of ships
there was always someone who wept when sails were lost.
Perhaps the brown Phoenician woman cried
and cried again because a ship went down
Or then some Grecian boy with swollen eyes
looked for his father and only saw the sea...
There must be in some tale telling of a wife
who bred a son upon the Spanish coast
then died before her sailor husband came...
From the beginning of ships
the sea was always making misery
water and waver, water and wave again
On life the ocean stained with memory
where are the ships?
But none can say today.
The ships are gone and men remain to show
with a strong black skin what course those keels had cut