My life’s ship’s now moored in the bay,
I’m done sailing through the day,
think I could use a good sleep
but I’m trapped in a thought so deep.
I will sail again tomorrow,
how I will fare, I do not know
for the oceans are vast and deep,
unknown are the perils they keep.
In today’s long voyage abroad,
I’ve filled the hold with lots of load
I found as I ventured far ashore
with people of various color.
Distant still is my home port,
do I have, them all, to transport?
My pact is coming to a close
so I have no recourse but choose.
I’d leave those that burden my sail,
bring with me those of good avail,
so when I reach the Good Lord’s Port
there I will find lasting comfort.
(1259H is a minute before midnight on a 24-hour format clock. I used it here in a figurative sense. It could mean for other people the moment before they retire at night to wait for a new day.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem