Deep in the currents that sweep the bottomless bottom
There are ropes tugging me home
Of flax and skin and hair and dust
And soap made of whale fat, the old kind
From the really old whales
I think I’d like to walk back
Along the bumpy bottom
A thousand miles from the air
Tracing my steps with the eyeless, breathing, floating plankton lamps
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting perspective on life down under!