Ocean of Forms

I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,
hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.
The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.

And now I am eager to die into the deathless.

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss
where swells up the music of toneless strings
I shall take this harp of my life.

I shall tune it to the notes of forever,
and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,
lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.

Rabindranath Tagore, ‘Ocean of Forms,’  from Gitanjali (1913)

Seashore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. they seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.

Rabindranath Tagore, ‘Seashore’, from Gitanjali (1913)

Gitanjali (’Handful of Songs’) is a Tagore’s free verse interpretations of medieval Bengali devotional lyrics. Its publication in English in 1913 (translated by the author) led to his being awarded the Nobel prize for literature that year.

A Dialogue Betwixt Venus, Thetis, and Phoebus

Venus. I’ll woo thee with a kiss to come away.

Thetis. And I with forty for to stay.

Venus. I’ll give to thee the fair Adonis’ spear,
So thou wilt rise.

Thetis. And I, to keep thee here,
Will give a wreath of pearl as fair
As ever sea-nymph yet did wear.
‘Tis Thetis woos thee stay: O stay, O stay!

Venus. ‘Tis Venus woos thee rise: O come away!

Phoebus. To which of these shall I mine ear incline?

Peter Hausted, The Rival Friends (1631).

Peter Hausted was at Queen’s College, Cambridge when his only play in English, The Rival Friends, was performed before the King and Queen in March 1931. In classical mythology Thetis is a sea-nymph, one of the Nereids, and the mother of Achilles.

Song

Who has robbed the ocean cave
To tinge thy lips with coral hue?
Who from India’s distant wave
For thee those pearly treasures drew?
Who from yonder orient sky
Stole the morning of thine eye?

Thousand charms, they form to deck,
From sea, and earth, and air are torn;
Roses bloom upon thy cheek,
On thy breath their fragrance borne.
Guard thy bosom from the day,
Lest those snows should melt away!

But one charm remains behind,
Which mute earth can ne’er impart;
Nor in ocean wilt thou find,
Nor in the circling air, a heart.
Fairest, wouldst thou perfect be,
Take, oh, take that heart from me!

John Shaw, ‘Song’ (1805)

Another Pearl

Let’s walk to the sound of distant shells
To a place where life would have no end
You’d be the mother of my pearls
If you follow me into my world
Back to the place where we’d be free
Where I’d love you and you’d love me
This is the colour of my world
Watch me find another pearl

Badly Drawn Boy (Damon Gough), ‘Another Pearl’ (2000), last verse.

From the album ‘The Hour of Bewilderbeast’.

The Merry Widow

Women, women, women,
Women, women, women,
You may study their ways if you can,
But a woman’s too much for a man,
It is deeper than diving for pearls
Courting girls, girls, girls, girls, girls!

Franz Léhar, ‘Women’, from The Merry Widow (1905) (English lyric by Adrian Ross; original lyrics by Victor Léon and Leo Stein)

Song from the Ship

To sea! To sea! the calm is o’er;
The wanton water leaps in sport,
And rattles down the pebbly shore;
The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort,
And unseen Mermaids’ pearly song
Comes bubbling up the weeds among.
Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar:
To sea! To sea! the calm is o’er.

Thomas Lovell Beddoes, ‘Song from the Ship’ (1850), first stanza.

The lyric comes from Beddoes’ blank verse drama Death’s Jest Book, or the Fool’s Tragedy. This was published posthumously in 1850 (Beddoes committed suicide in 1848), but had been written and reworked since 1825.

Shipbuilding

Is it worth it?
A new winter coat and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boy’s birthday.
It’s just a rumour that was spread around town
By the women and children,
Soon we’ll be shipbuilding.

Well, I ask you,
The boy said ‘Dad they’re going to take me to task,
But I’ll be back by Christmas’.
It’s just a rumour that was spread around town.
Somebody said that someone got filled in
For saying that people get killed in
The result of this shipbuilding.

With all the will in the world,
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls.

It’s just a rumour that was spread around town,
A telegram or a picture postcard,
Within weeks they’ll be re-opening the shipyards
And notifying the next of kin
Once again.
It’s all we’re skilled in.
We will be shipbuilding.

With all the will in the world,
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls.

Elvis Costello and Clive Langer, ‘Shipbuilding’ (1983).

First sung as a single by Robert Wyatt, later sung by Elvis Costello on his album Punch the Clock. The song’s subject is the Falklands War.

The Tempest

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of his that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Burden. Ding-dong
Hark! now I hear them – ding-dong, bell.

William Shakespeare, The Tempest (1611), Act I, Scene ii.

Sung by Ariel (while invisible) to Prince Ferdinand.