Not Waving but Drowning is a poem by the British poet Stevie Smith (Florence Margaret Smith) 1902-1971. Smith is a master storyteller who paints a vivid picture using multiple voices but few words to convey a tragicomic truth: when we look at other people's lives, we think we understand them. We think we know why they behave the way they do. But maybe we don't. Maybe the current has taken them too far out and they can't swim back to shore. And maybe they are not waving but drowning...
Not Waving but Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Stevie Smith
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