Tags
Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Herman Melville, Moby Dick, Nantucket, pequod, poem, poetry, Sperm whale, Whaling
We have rescued a sailor
Of Pequod the whaler;
She sailed from Nantucket, well-found.
His name it is Ishmael;
He says that a white whale
Sent her to the bottom – all drowned
But he – all were lost;
In the sea they were tossed;
All was smashed up to splinters and gore.
It’s a blood chilling tale
Of a man killing whale;
Of revenge, and of madness and war.
Ahab was the master;
This sorry disaster
Relates to his ivory peg.
The story began
In the Sea of Japan
Where the white whale, it bit off his leg.
Revenge Ahab needed;
No warnings he heeded;
Now all except Ishmael are dead.
This captain insane
With a hate addled brain,
All the rest, to destruction, he led.
Now the monster and he,
They are spliced, in the sea,
In the depths where leviathans sound.
And they never will rise;
Ishmael saw with his eyes,
That by line and by lance they were bound.
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