HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

9 Sea-Sickness
The gray afternoon clouds
Drop lower over the sea.
Which darkly riseth to meet them.
And between them both fares the ship.
Sea-sick I still sit by the mast
And all by myself indulge in meditation,
Those world-old ashen-gray meditations.
Which erst our father Lot entertained.
When he had enjoyed too much of a good thing.
And afterward suffered such inconvenience.
Meanwhile I think also of old stories;
How pilgrims with the cross on their breast in days of
yore,
On their stormy voyages, devoutly kissed
The consoling image of the blessed Virgin.
How sick knights in such ocean-trials.
Pressed to their lips with equal comfort
The dear glove of their lady.
But I sit and chew in vexation
An old herring, my salty comforter.
Midst caterwauling and dogged tribulatioi?.
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