Tom Paulin reads his poem Sea Wind:
This is a version of a famous poem by Mallarme called "Brise Marine"
by Tom Paulin (1949-)
It's a sad creature I'm afraid the body
all the classics — every book that stands steady
on my shelves I've read them through but only
to make this wish — oh to walk to the edge of the sea
and watch stints skittering along the tideline
then scattering up and beyond into the sky!
not a thing — not the gardens of mouldy chateaus
wet and glaucous in her eyes —
not a thing no one will stop me I've got to go
down to the wild sea — I tell you not nights
crossing blank pages under my desklamp
- not that desert wild or the sigh
of a dumpy girl breastfeeding her child
will stop me booking a berth on some tramp
steamer heaving its rust toward the tropics
— I'll wave my snotrag from the deck sick
of stroking my own boredom – by the saltstained smokestack
let me dream of wind and wrecks!