The Suicide

Bereft of soul My body shall be bare. Bereft of body My soul shall be bare. Which would you rather have O kind sea? Which is the more dead Of the two? I throw the bodies out, I cannot stand their smell. Only the souls may enter The vortex of sea. Only the souls know how to sing At the vortex of the sea. Your body shall be dead, Poor thing, Dead as driftwood, drifting And drifting to the shore. Your body shall ride the tide, Rider, slumped dead On white war-house. Charging. Your body shall bruise white Against the coral reefs, Your body, Your lonely body. I tell you, sea, I have enough courage to die, But not enough. Not enough to disobey him Who said: Do not die And hurt me that certain way. How easy your duties are. How simple. Only roar a hungry roar, Leao forward, And retreat. You swing and you swing, O sea, you play a child's game. But, I must pose. I must pretend, I must act the role Of happy woman, Happy wife. I must keep the right distance Between me and the low. And I must keep the right distance Between me and the high. O sea, i am fed up I want to be simple I want to be loved And If love is not to be had, I want to be dead, just dead While I enter deeper, With joy I discover The sea's hostile cold Is after all skin-deep. The sea's inner chambers Are all very warm. There must be a sun slumbering At the vortex of the sea. O sea, i am happy swimming Happy, happy, happy ... The only movement i know well Is certainly the swim. It comes naturally to me. I had a house a Malabar And a pale-green pond. I did all my growing there In the bright summer months. I swam about and floated, And divided into the cold and green I lay speckled green and gold In all the hours of the sun, Until My grandmother cried, Darling, you must stop this bathing now. You are much too big to play Naked in the pond. Yes, the only movement i really know Is swimming, It comes naturally to me. The white man who offers To help me forget, The white man who offers Himself as a stiff drink, Is for me, To tell the truth, Only water. Only a pale-green pond Glimmering in the sun. In him I swim All broken with longing. In his robust blood i float Drying off my tears. Yet i never can forget The only man who hurts. The only one who seems to know The only way to hurt. Holding you is easy Clutching at moving water, I tell you, sea, This is easy, But to hold him for half a day Was a difficult task. It required drinks To hold him down. To make him love. But, when he did not love, Believe me, All I could do was to sob like a fool. O sea, You generous cow, You and I are big flops. We are too sentimental For our own Good. Lights are moving on the shore. But I shall not return. Sea, toss my body back That he knew how to love. Bereft of body My soul shall be free. Take in my naked soul That he knew how to hurt. Only the soul knows how to sing At the vortex of the sea.