The faint, grey air bowled along the street
The people trundled to and fro,
The shop doorways and promised treats
As on Sundays long ago;
And now we walk the same route
The same breezes return to blow,
The water still rushes, mute
To the ears of the depths below;
On Blast Beach we find a brick
With it's ‘Londonderry' marking,
A dog walker throws a stick
An interlude to the barking;
An ice cream is bought to freeze the teeth
A coffee to sooth the nerves,
Beside ‘Tommy', a red-rose wreath
Set against the metal curves;
‘Sea glass' and it's dull light
Fills the careful eye
With their green or milky white,
Dry and wet, then dry;
And the collieries, once so proud,
Deadened by the same hand
That once fed the hungry crowd
That dug below the land;
But who will say, forthright
That Seaham will not rise again?
That day will not emerge from night
And take away it's pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sea of glass! ! Once so proud! Thanks for sharing.