– Robert Graves

Look at my knees,

That island rising from the steamy seas!

The candle's a tall lightship; my two hands

Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,

 With mighty cliffs all round;

They're full of wine and riches from far lands....

I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?

 

 I can make caves,

By lifting up the island and huge waves

And storms, and then with head and ears well under

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?

 

 The thin soap slips

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....

I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?