Echoes of the Silent Shore
Echoes of the Silent Shore
In the depths of the silent shore
Basking in the sun at Poudre d`Or,
Where the rays of the rising sun
Make their feast on the horizon,
Lies the sad wreck of Saint Géran
Sent to Isle de France* on errand.
It dipped down the depth of the sea
With goods, people and Virginie
With Paul, her treasured soul ashore,
Mourning one he could see no more
With the dream of his life shattered
And his heart in pieces fractured.
Waves have washed the shore of the sea
At Poudre d`Or for three centuries,
But the mourning echoes of Paul
Reverberate in lovers` soul
And linger on the silent shore
As vibrant as ever before.
These echoes of the silent shore
Have turned to be the village lore
And every year draws to its core
Strings of visitors to adore
Reminiscence of a sad tale
Of real life blown by the gales.
Woven with the web of fiction,
Enriched by imagination,
This woeful tale has been enshrined
By a French pen with superb mind
To reach frontiers of the wide world
With flag of the island unfurled.
Let echoes of the silent shore
Stand as memory evermore
To Paul`s and to Virginie`s tale
That never in life will turn stale
As long as lovers` loving hearts
Are torn by hands of fate apart.
*The ship wrecked in 1744 off the coast of the island , then a French possession, later to become Mauritius when taken over by the British in 1810.
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