Approaching an island
Of unknown rocks
And rearing cliffs,
I am Ulysses,
Anticipating the next terror.

My ship cleaves
The running waves,
Dipping long and deep
Into foam at leeward,
While above me
Curves the white canvas.

It seems forever
That I have stood
Alone at the helm,
On this sloping deck,
Feeling the great, grey rollers
Slide below me,
And the cold wet wind at my back.

I watch the waves,
The ship,
The approach of the unknown shore,
No Sirens can distract me,
I am bound to this voyage.