I CAST MY NET INTO THE SEA

by: Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)

In the morning I cast my net into the sea.

I dragged up from the dark abyss things of strange aspect and strange beauty -- some shone like a smile, some glistened like tears, and some were flushed like the cheeks of a bride.

When with the day's burden I went home, my love was sitting in the garden idly tearing the leaves of a flower.

I hesitated for a moment, and then placed at her feet all that I had dragged up, and stood silent.

She glanced at them and said, "What strange things are these? I know not of what use they are!"

I bowed my head in shame and thought, "I have not fought for these, I did not buy them in the market; they are not fit gifts for her."

Then the whole night through I flung them one by one into the street.

In the morning travellers came; they picked them up and carried them into far countries.

A Blipless day yesterday due to spending 23 hours travelling,
Left the house (Aberdeen) at 04:45 GMT and 03:45 GMT (01.45 local) saw me checking in to the Hotel in Vitoria, Brazil.

Rejoined the ship this morning at 09:00 local, The Blip is a guy I watched casting his net in the channel where we are moored, I hope his endevour is appreciated a bit more than old Rabindranath Tagore's was.
His "love" sounds like a right spoiled beesom!