Seemann, laß das Träumen, denke nicht an mich.

Of all the god-forsaken cafes in the world, this little cafe was playing…

" Seemann, deine Heimat ist das Meer " on a old phonograph when he walked by. He just had to walk in, sat down and listened.

The song ended, he asked the Thai woman to play it again. A westerner came out from the back, appeared to be the proprietor, walked over to him and asked if he wanted something to drink. He nodded. A cup of coffee was brought to his table. The westerner sat down next to him and said he liked the song also. It was a folk song written in 1925, and was still very popular in his days before he left Germany to roam the world. Eventually he came to Bangkok, married a Thai girl, settled down and now a sidewalk cafe operator. The lone man smiled with a noncommittal expression. The German smiled back with a not-too-unhappy expression, and left him alone to his thoughts.

He first heard this song on a ship, in fact on the "Presidents Line" on route to the US. The year when Hawaii turned statehood. It was summer time when the ship set sails, she and other classmates showed up to bid him farewell. His parents were there, busy with his luggage and seeing about his berth.

One by one his classmates left, she was finally alone with him. They were silent for a long time; finally he said he would write often and fell silent again. She nodded slightly, turned her head to hide the tears trickling down from her eyes. He came over to her, put his hand on hers and held it there. She did not withdraw, just looked at him. For a man of eloquent words, he was at a loss what to say. He wanted this moment to last, yet he wanted this moment to fast-forward to the time they would meet again under much happier circumstances. She stood up, hesitated a moment, brushed her lips across his. Walked off the ship and never turned her head once.

This was the last time he saw her. The image of her walking off in small steps as if in pain and the determination not to turn around was etched in his mind for life. He often thought he could see her from the front in the evening light, with a slight frown, fighting hard to hold back the tears.

It was not necessarily a lonely trip on the ship, there were nightly parties, plenty of girls, merry-makings and laughters.

The announcement came one evening that a new tune was going to be the opening song for the party. He heard

"Seemann, deine Heimat ist das Meer " for the first time. The melody was smooth and silk-like, yet the sadness and the melancholy were unmistakably clear. He did not understand a single word of what the songstress sang. It was in a foreign tongue. The captain told the stewards to distribute the lyric of the song in German and in English to the passengers. The song was played again with the passengers joined in.

Sailor (seaman), your home is the ocean!
Sailor, your home is the ocean!
Sailor, stop dreaming, don't think of home.
Sailor, wind and waves are calling you:
your home is the ocean,
your friends are the stars,
from Rio and Shanghai,
over Bali and Hawai.
Your love is your ship,
yearning for the distance,
and you only live for this.
Sailor, stop dreaming, don't think of me.
Sailor, the unknown is waiting for you.

Everyone sang the song time again, each time with more feeling. The ship captain and the stewards were more taken than most.

He sang along and began to feel the impact of the lyric; "Sailor, stop dreaming, don't think of me."

"Sailor, the unknown is waiting for you. "

He sighed and thought it impossible not to think of her.

He landed on the West Coast. The exchange of letters was often and regular. He was facing the biggest challenge of his life to adjust. She was trying hard to define a future for herself. He poured his heart out to her, and was reciprocated. He would read her letters time and again and again, as if he lived to read her letters.

He did fine in his first year of study, and she got into nursing school. At the end of the second year, she wrote that she might have the chance to go on to England for practical training. He wrote back to encourage her and urge her on. He knew she was kind of short on pocket money. He saved half of what he made working in the school cafeteria and sent her a nice going-away present. He included a 78 inch record of " Seemann, deine Heimat ist das Meer " along with the lyric in the same package. He told her how much he liked the melody and the lyric, and the circumstances when he heard this song for the first time. He said he listened to the song often and thought of her every time. He told her that he thought of her when he was not listening to the song. He just thought of her.

She went to England for training, graduated with honors, immediately recruited by the training hospital, and held increasingly more important appointments as time went on.

He began his preparation of thesis defense about six months in advance, and he wrote to say that he needed concentrate on his study. Their communication became less frequent and near the defense date it almost stopped.

His plan was to meet her in England after graduation, but had not mentioned anything to her.

It was over finally. With a glee on this face, he called to tell her that it was time to meet and he was coming to England. He was surprised to be told that she moved out of the flat without a forwarding address or points of contact. He called the hospital and was told she was out of town on assignment. He knew then as he knew now that this story had been told a thousand times since time began. He was grateful that she did not say anything before his defense.

One week later, a letter arrived. It was from her.

She began by congratulating him and told him she was very confident in his ability. She went on to say that she tore up and restarted this letter many times, knowing the letter would hurt and did not know how to write it. She thought they were apart for too long and that they liked each other when they were very young kids. They were now in their mid/late twenties and they had grown to be, perhaps, very different person with different philosophy, political outlook and personal viewpoints. They shared an innocent time of their lives and she was glad she shared it with him. She met someone and believed it was this person she shared many other views and values. She knew she hurt him and hoped that he would forgive her. It was fate and it was not meant to be. She ended with " Seemann, laß das Träumen,denke nicht an mich."

He knew what that meant "Seaman, stop dreaming, don't think of me", words from the song he sent her.

There was no hatred in his heart, only regrets.

The lone man reached into his inner pocket and pulled out an old and worn out aereogramme with a stamp featuring a young Queen. He read the sentence again. He smiled, knowing that he had not forgotten and he had not been forgotten.

He sipped the last drops of the bittersweet coffee, and walked out into the twilight of the BKK skyline, carrying with him the letter in his inner pocket.

"Seemann, deine Heimat ist das Meer" sounded again and was apparently lost in the evening shadow of a busy Southeast Asian city.