Telenus, Beneath the Waves Verse 1 — The Southern Shore The storm came down on the southern shore, And the sea broke through our garden door. By dawn, where our neighbors’ houses stood, The tide carried roses and splintered wood. I called their names through the salt and rain; Only the waves called back again. Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, How can I leave you to Thassa alone? Your lamps may be dark, your towers may fall, But here in my heart, I carry them all. Wherever these wandering waters may lead, I’ll sing of the home lying under the sea. Verse 2 — Rebuilding We gathered the timber the waters returned, And cleared out the hearths where our fires had burned. I carried the stones with my skirts gathered high, While hammers rang out underneath a clear sky. We hung a new door where the old one had been, And dared to believe we could live there again. Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, How can I leave you to Thassa alone? Your lamps may be dark, your towers may fall, But here in my heart, I carry them all. Wherever these wandering waters may lead, I’ll sing of the home lying under the sea. Verse 3 — The Greater Storm Then the gulls fled inland before the night, And the clouds swallowed up the last of the light. The harbor ropes strained with a terrible sound; Through the soles of my shoes, I felt trembling ground. Before we had finished repairing one wall, The watch cried, “To the ships! There is no time at all!” Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, How can I leave you to Thassa alone? Your lamps may be dark, your towers may fall, But here in my heart, I carry them all. Wherever these wandering waters may lead, I’ll sing of the home lying under the sea. Verse 4 — Leaving We crowded aboard every ship that could sail, With children wrapped close against rain and hail. No chest could be carried, no wagon brought through; There was barely a place for the people we knew. I held my house key as they cast off the line, And watched for the window that used to be mine. Verse 5 — The Sinking The hillside gave way with a roar through the rain; Our streets disappeared, then rose briefly again. The tower leaned low where the white breakers rolled, And sank with the bell that had called young and old. Where Telenus stood, there was nothing to see— Just wreckage, and darkness, and miles of sea. Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, How can I leave you to Thassa alone? Your lamps may be dark, your towers may fall, But here in my heart, I carry them all. Wherever these wandering waters may lead, I’ll sing of the home lying under the sea. Verse 6 — Up the Vosk We crossed weary Thassa with salt in our bread, And whispered the names of the missing and dead. Then into the Vosk, past the reeds bending low, Our ships turned upriver, so heavy and slow. I washed my torn dress where the fresh water ran, But held to that key in the palm of my hand. Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, How can I leave you to Thassa alone? Your lamps may be dark, your towers may fall, But here in my heart, I carry them all. Wherever these wandering waters may lead, I’ll sing of the home lying under the sea. Verse 7 — A Home in Turmus In Turmus, they met us with blankets and bread, And found us dry rooms and a place for a bed. Some spoke of departing when spring winds would blow; Some planted small gardens, with nowhere to go. I’ve hung a new curtain; I’ve swept a new floor. Still, sometimes I reach for the key to that door. Final Chorus Oh, Telenus, my island, my home, I dream of your streets when the night leaves me alone. In Turmus, a lamp waits beside my own chair; There’s bread on my table, and kind voices there. I’ll make a home here, though I weep as I do— And sing to the sea when I’m longing for you.
