When Sirens sing their voices shimmer
Like a mirage above the wine dark sea.
Do they attend their sisters' seductive song
Or only the grunts and gasps of sailors
Belaboring the waves with frantic oars?
Are Sirens aroused by sounds of human lust
Or inflamed merely to engender death?
Do they pity or revel in men's mortal cries
As sacrificial flotsam sinks like the sun
Beneath the surface of the sea.
What consummation do Sirens ache and strain for
As Ulysses tugs and strains against his chosen bonds?
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