The hard will ballad

This is not a book: What books lock, that sarcophagus and shrouds¡
past it’s their loot:
but here lives an eternal present.
This is not a book: What books lock, that sarcophagus and shrouds¡
this is a will, a promise,
this is a marine wind, a weigh anchors,
this is a bridges breaking of.
A machinery roar, a helm steer;
¡Howl the gun, pale his fire steams,
guffaw the sea, the immensity¡

words by Nietzsche.