| Robert Graves (1895–1985). Fairies and Fusiliers. 1918. |
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| 25. I Wonder What it Feels Like to be Drowned? |
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| LOOK at my knees, | |
| That island rising from the steamy seas! | |
| The candles a tall lightship; my two hands | |
| Are boats and barges anchored to the sands, | |
| With mighty cliffs all round; | 5 |
| They’re full of wine and riches from far lands…. | |
| I wonder what it feels like to be drowned? | |
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| I can make caves, | |
| By lifting up the island and huge waves | |
| And storms, and then with head and ears well under | 10 |
| Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder, | |
| A bull-of-Bashan sound. | |
| The seas run high and the boats split asunder…. | |
| I wonder what it feels like to be drowned? | |
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| The thin soap slips | 15 |
| And slithers like a shark under the ships. | |
| My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect | |
| Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked. | |
| The soap slides round and round; | |
| He’s biting the old sailors, I expect…. | 20 |
| I wonder what it feels like to be drowned? | |
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