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.