Press it, press it hard into the ears
Or the sirens will destroy us all.

Now I cannot hear their song and only see
The beauty of their bronzed and subtle flesh.
Help me Gods not to listen.
Free me from the yearning,
Chasten my desire
And I promise to row harder,
To pull quietly on my oar,
And stare straight ahead,
Looking neither left nor right
For fear I should be transformed.

At that moment
My song stopped.
The music dimmed
The waves grew gentle
And the long homeward voyage began.

But the old song lingered in the waves
Changed into a lullaby and washed gently
Against the skulls dreaming on the shoreline.