The speaker hears the sea calling and lies on the rocks, saying “I am come.” But the sea is personified as a mocking woman: she shows her teeth, stretches out green arms, and thunders, “Go away!” The speaker begs for direction, saying that leaving would do no good—the sea’s voice follows into cities, plains, and forests. They have given up everything else to answer this call. The sea denies ever calling, then belittles the speaker: all they have in common is the salt of frightened tears, and they cannot know her love from a safe “brown rock pillow.” Then she says, “Come closer.” The mood is tense and intimate, even a little frightening. The speaker feels rejected, desperate, and unable to leave, caught between longing for the sea and fear of what closeness would demand.
Sea — Summary
The Sea called--I lay on the rocks and said: “I am come.” She mocked and showed her teeth, Stretching out her long green arms. “Go away!” she thundered. “Then tell me what I am to do,” I begged. “If I leave you, you will not be silent, But cry my name in the cities And wistfully entreat me in the plains and forests; All else I forsake to come to you--what must I do?” “Never have I uttered your name,” snarled the Sea. “There is no more of me in your body Than the little salt tears you are frightened of shedding. What can you know of my love on your brown rock pillow.... Come closer.”