World Below the Brine

The world below the brine;

      Forests at the bottom of the sea — the branches and leaves,  

Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds —

      the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf,  

Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold —

      the play of light through the water, 

Dumb swimmers there among the rocks — coral, gluten, grass, rushes —

      and the aliment of the swimmers,

Sluggish existences grazing there, suspended, or slowly crawling

     close to the bottom,  

The sperm-whale at the surface, blowing air and spray, or disporting

      with his flukes,

The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard,

      and the sting-ray;  

Passions there — wars, pursuits, tribes — sight in those ocean-depths —

      breathing that thick-breathing air, as so many do;  

The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings

      like us, who walk this sphere;

The change onward from ours, to that of beings who walk other spheres.