Tree That Overlooks The Port Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Tree that overlooks the port; for long
Long decades; more, more, you were.

Lone yet stately, winds and gales and
Tempests tear the sea-breast, but not you.

You see history as in a film; the asphalt
Road, the houses are your cinema.

You hear the night play the fugue of
Sadness; even at Dawn it still lingers.

Your that hear the night ghosts and
Shrouds roam restless and lament.

My mother with them, soon I.
The night is made for them, they for it.

And now the time is come to end
This sadness; not destroy, transform.

Into a ghost and shroud will I roam
Restless old Valletta, heart-broken man.