Night Swimming

Look at that silver water shimmering for you,

Waiting to cradle you in a sudden, cool embrace;

To set your sleeping sinews a-ripple in all their grace;

To revolve your gritted brain on the oiled bands of the shadow—

This is the place.

You, with all your thoughts paralleled into blueprints;

You, with destruction’s statistics; you, with your guns;

You pitiful—you brilliant, furious ones—

Off with it, doff it all! Then, on with this motley,

Make this living magic yours, once.

No deep growl in the warm, black throat of night;

The searchlight dreams on a ripple. Lithe bodies, dashing,

Knife the clear moonlight. Like columns crashing,

The whipped sprays crumble to a powdery froth.

Bare arms gleam in the air like swords flashing.

Smoke lifting; the strong fire writhing in its wooden fetters

—All this is not the animation, the breath

Of another existence. It is the current beneath

War, rumours of war. Grip fast this minute; treasure it,

This minute. In a shellburst you will laugh at the idiot, death.