Ima Ryma


Cantaro


A cantaro, the hands made me
From clay into ceramic jar,
Percussion instrument to be
Played by hands for sweet sounds that are.
Hands took me on board a big ship,
And touched me for my music joy.
A fierce sea storm ended the trip.
Destructive death did say, 'Ahoy.'
But I sank safely to my fate.
But with no hands, I could not play.
Beneath the waters, I did wait
Till hands held me another day.

Centuries later, I am found.
Hands again make my music sound.

Submitted: Sunday, November 10, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Cantaro by Ima Ryma )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Believe In Love, Naveed Akram
  2. When You Speak to Your God, Robert Kane
  3. A Perception Of Love., richard harris
  4. Poetry of Motion, Jack Growden
  5. GAZA غزة, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  6. whats the point?, binod bastola
  7. If You Should Read This Poem, David Munene wa Kimberly
  8. Holy! Holy!, Naveed Khalid
  9. My Mother, Tony Adah
  10. Mutability, Naveed Khalid

Poem of the Day

poet Percy Bysshe Shelley

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soon
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Mackay

 
[Hata Bildir]