Night at Scheveningen
The North Sea shakes
His ranks in
Thunder
Through
The moon,
Beats and breaks
His flanks in
Sunder
To
The dune.
Cold
Song,
And pitiless
On rock and century.
Bold,
Strong
And cityless
My soul is as the sea.
from Titans and Gods, by F. V. Branford
London: Christophers, 1922
Available on the Internet Archive: Link
Sitting here tonight in a hotel on the beach at Scheveningen, looking out into the dunes, I wondered if I could find any poem about this most unpoetic sounding place.
En hier is het. Wie had dat gedacht?
This is one in a series of neglected poems taken from the Internet Archive.