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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473812" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nagasaki mon amour</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473812" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nagasaki Mon Amour </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473812" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are moments when things become clear. A night, the Pacific Ocean was, <br>as its name, calm; I sat on deck and listened to the heartbeat of the ship, <br>which seemed to beat faster when one of the engineers opened the door and <br>came out on deck. I heard laughter from the mess-room they were playing <br>cards but I knew I would never be one of them, I had tried, the swagger and <br>the misogyny, living in a world where women were either whores or mothers. <br>The ship was bound for Nagasaki, which for the young crew meant little, but <br>I had been here before and visited a graveyard where Portuguese sailors had <br>died long time ago when Japan was an unknown land. At sixty I was a relic <br>and accepted that. Berthed. Walking down the gangway, I didn’t bother to look <br>back, didn’t shake anyone’s hand- it was dinner time anyway. Before flying back <br>to Europe I tried to find the Portuguese cemetery, it wasn’t there anymore; <br> another relic gone.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a></strong></div>