Sunday, October 18, 2015

... and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
- Ulysses, Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)


JiEL said...

Où est notre équipage «nu»... ???

another country said...

LOL !!!

Il est en soute.

JiEL said...

Alors c'est «in-soute-nable» ces images sans les faire «monter» sur le pont...

J'ai le mat qui se hisse tout seul qu'à les imaginer...

another country said...

Va falloir envoyer de la voilure !

yves said...

ça me fait rêver, houle lala...