Undefeated these waves and tides

Through all the occupied centuries

When sea-fogs hid Moorish boats shipping opal

To Byzantium while Frisian raiders

Looted every monastery south

Of Lindisfarne. People move from times

Of hunger to places of plenty acoss seas

Where membranes of wood and tattered sail

Lift them towards the moon-blood

Of fertility and away from the torture

Of watching their children starve to death

On the rocky slopes of miss-begotten lands.

Tempest-seas that death by water could not appease

Flung the very gods of earth and air into the foaming seas 

To drive poor sailors to risk their lives to find a way to very heaven.