We continue to tease the release of Edith Sitwell's Collected Poems (due out from Overlook in June)! Today's poem "The Mariner Man" is probably not about Ichiro, Seattle's great slap-hitter (although Safeco Field does have "trains" behind their right field fence, hmm). The hitter is no geezer, he's still in his prime and still capable of batting in the high .300s. But we can dream of the intersection of poetry and baseball and think of Ichiro's steady gaze at the gap in search of yet another bloop single. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Enjoy the poem and go Ichiro!--Jim
Mariner Man
' What are you staring at, mariner man,
wrinkled as sea-sand and old as the sea ? '
' Those trains will run over their tails, if they can,
snorting and sporting like porpoises ! Flee
The burly, the whirlygig wheels of the train,
As round as the world and as large again,
Running half the way over to Babylon, down
Through the fields of clover to gay Troy town --
A-puffing their smoke as grey as the curl
On my forehead as wrinkled as sands of the sea ! --
But what can that matter to you, my girl ?
(And what can that matter to me?)
1 comment:
Knowing the story or rather, the facts, behind Mariner Man, I feel the warmth flooding forth from the poem which, Miss. Sitwell so obviously felt for The Mariner Man - Henry Moat - her father's valet. Without patronising her, it's a delightful little poem stemming from her childhood. It's one of my true favourites. Thank You, Edith.
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