The glory of ships is an old, old song, since the days when the sea-rovers ran In their open boats through the roaring surf, and the spread of the world began;
The glory of ships is a light on the sea, and a star in the story of man
When...
At the crowded gangway they kissed good-bye
He had half a mind to scold her
An officer's mother and not keep dry The epaulet on his shoulder
He had forgotten mother and fame,
Center of all centers, core of cores,almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet—all this universe, to the furthest starsall beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit
Now you feel how nothing clings to you;your vast shell reaches into endless space,...
You love us when we're heroes, home on leave,
Or wounded in a mentionable place
You worship decorations; you believe That chivalry redeems the war's disgrace
You make us shells
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye
The morning glory alsoturns out not to be my friend
Translated by Robert Hass