And in and out among the flecks of foam
White sea-birds rose and fell upon the wind,
No different from the moving curves of spray
Until into the sky they rose and stayed
And joined the flocks which flew beside the ship,
All drawn along and upward in our wake.
Upon the starboard bow the distance broke
And there between the ocean and the sky
The land appeared, its highest peak concealed
By cloudy streamers, ribbons of the wind,
Its earthbase anchored in the purple depths
Among the corals and the waving weeds.
Our arrival in Seychelles by sea from Bombay,
After a journey of five days, July 1968
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