Leading a valiant fleet
‘tis the mighty ship BABUR,
Whose deadly gliding sleekness
The enemy’s aims deter.

A greyish streak upon
The blueness of the sea
‘tis the mighty ship BABUR
Out on a hunting spree.

On a fine day in 43
This mighty ship was commissioned,
New hopes before her lay,
New seas before her opened.

Her air of towering splendour
The rest of the fleet does stir,
To acts of reckless valour
‘tis the mighty ship BABUR.

The same way it stirs the rest
Stirs also those within;
For in some dreary boiler room
A stoker fans the fiery din.

One can easily catch a glimpse
Of some cryptic hell on earth
As the Chief ERA sprays
The boiler’s steely hearth.

Turbos and turbines
And a host of other machinery
All humming in it’s engine room
Puts the ME’s in a flurry.

Amongst these drab surroundings
The EO sips hot brew;
He may not enjoy his watch
But he sure has a job to do

While on the spacious quarterdeck
With the wind a-gently whistling,
All cares are softly wiped away
Cool freshness seems to cling.

The goings not so great however
With the ship in stormy seas,
Huge waves wash the upper deck
And roll the ship with ease.

The rough sea always seems to put
The SMO in a swoon,
While all the seamen seem to say
For our sake, doc, do get well soon.

With old traditions to uphold,
New enemies to encounter,
True well she has played her part,
This mighty ship BABUR.

Note: This poem was written in October of 1972 as a Midshipman on board the training cruiser PNS BABUR.