Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 5

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"The Lake Isle Of Bromford"

I will arise and go now and go to Bromford
And a small cabin build there of clay and wattles made
And nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee
And live alone in the bee-loud glade

And I shall have some peace there for peace comes dropping slow
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings
There midnight's all a glimmer and noon a purple glow
And evening full of the linnet's wings

I will arise and go now for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore
While I stand on the roadway or on the pavements gray
I hear it in the deep heart's core

Oh, I will arise and go now and go to Bromford
And a small cabin build there of clay and wattles made
Oh, nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

»Mr. Wiker! «

Another loud yelling is sounding across the deck of the sailing ship.

»Rev the crab claw rigs, cut the masts, steer the wheel! This weather is getting too hard for the old lady. We have got to return to our last harbour - Berlin. «

A thin, tall man with a long white beard but otherwise totally bald-headed is walking against the storm and addressing a second man standing on the upper deck behind a huge steering-wheel.

»I think our last harbour was Syracuse, Captain Hammock«, the helmsman answers. »And Berlin did not have a harbour the last time I visited. «

»Could have been Babylon, Wiker. Set course back to Babylon! «

»Don't mention Babylon, Captain Hammock! Saying that name brings bad luck. That city has fallen and sunken a long time ago. «

»OK, Wiker, let's make it Quantico then, where we picked up our last freight. Just get us out of this storm or the old monster will swallow us whole. Where is the rest of the crew, Number One? «

»Gone, Captain, ran away. They are all gone with the by-boats. «

»Mutiny, that is mutiny! «

Today is Tuesday, the 5th of December 2023.