In the twilight’s dusky gloom,
  Eternally a frozen tomb,  
  Forever waiting patiently,
The sea lies all around.

Its waters ripple, almost still,
  Currents cold with arctic chill,
  It sits and moves so silently
There is no noise, no sound.

Grey-glazed, its surface icy lead,
  Its waves this mighty land surround,
  Preparing to attack the ground
Its thought dwell with the dead.

    The ocean broods,
    A thought intrudes,
The ocean thinks of death, unplanned,
The waves have fled towards this land:
      Atlantis.


Sparkling bright, the towers stand,
  Lustrous shining, covering the land,
  Wandering off to the edge of the sky
As far as the eye can see.

Gleaming and glittering in the sun
  Sparkling colours of rainbows run,
  Spires of warm golden glass catch the eye,
Pure and clean as the sea.

Avenues broad and lined with trees.
  Move quietly past the palaces of gold,
  Leaves that are green and flowers that hold
Perfumes that play on the breeze.

    Heart of the city,
    Woven with country,
Nature and metals adorn its face,
Paradise dwells in this place:

      Atlantis:


The brown earth trembles, shaking slightly,
  The wind whips and holds the clouds tightly,
  Golden building fall to the ground,
Before a giant’s scythe.

Toppling over, the towers tall, 
  The bricks and beams and glass do fall,
  Temples are shattering all around,
The very ground does writhe.

The earth moves quickly up and down,
  Towards the sky the buildings lunge, 
  And with the islands final plunge,
Are tossed, they wait to drown.

    The ground subsides,
    The ocean rides,
The mighty waves come flooding in
And wash over this broken ruin:

      Atlantis.


Beneath this ocean’s icy water
  These ruins lie, the scene of slaughter,
	The towers toppled, columns cracked,
The buildings all are shattered,

The currents flow down the sunken street,
  Ghosts are the only people they meet,
  The avenues with bones are packed,
The skeletons are scattered.

Above these broken ruins lies
  The water of this frozen sea,
  A mighty grave, a memory,
The ocean cold and wise.

    It spares no pity
    For this city,
For one day yet, ‘midst fire and pain,
This island soon will rise again.

      Atlantis.   

                                1975