by Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.
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Hear Dylan Thomas reading the whole poem:
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Things to think about:
I have to confess. The first time I read this poem, I didn't care for it. I didn't know what a "dingle" was, and that bothered me. "Golden in the heydays of his eyes" wasn't a phrase I could easily make sense of. And what's going on with being green and carefree?
But I discovered other poems by Dylan Thomas that I liked. And I learned that some of his poems are best listened to, as we might listen to a strange song or a piece of new music. We wait for what the poet can give us, and maybe we find something interesting!
When I was in high school, somebody asked me what it meant that "the sabbath rang slowly in the pebbles of the holy streams." It's a beautiful sentence, and I'd love to hear your ideas about it!
Friday, May 8, 2020
From Romeo and Juliet: Queen Mab
by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Over men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces, of the smallest spider web;
Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.
*
Things to think about:
These lines are part of a longer speech by Mercutio, a friend of Romeo's in Shakespeare's play. Romeo has just told Mercutio that he had a dream, and Mercutio, perhaps judging from the way that Romeo is looking all starry-eyed, figures out that it's a dream of love.
Mercutio warns him that dreams can be very strange. He suggests that "the fairies' midwife," Queen Mab, is responsible for putting the strange images in our heads.
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Over men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces, of the smallest spider web;
Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.
*
Things to think about:
These lines are part of a longer speech by Mercutio, a friend of Romeo's in Shakespeare's play. Romeo has just told Mercutio that he had a dream, and Mercutio, perhaps judging from the way that Romeo is looking all starry-eyed, figures out that it's a dream of love.
Mercutio warns him that dreams can be very strange. He suggests that "the fairies' midwife," Queen Mab, is responsible for putting the strange images in our heads.
From Macbeth: The Three Weird Sisters' Chant
by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble!
*
Things to think about:
The "weird sisters" in Macbeth are basically witches. Here, they are pronouncing some scary spell, and concocting a stew that I, for one, would not like to taste!
Still, I think that the "spell" is fun to say! Shakespeare knew how to make the language sing and charm and enchant his listeners.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble!
*
Things to think about:
The "weird sisters" in Macbeth are basically witches. Here, they are pronouncing some scary spell, and concocting a stew that I, for one, would not like to taste!
Still, I think that the "spell" is fun to say! Shakespeare knew how to make the language sing and charm and enchant his listeners.
Friday, May 1, 2020
Walk Sounds
by Bob Kaufman (1925-1986)
Soft noise, where crystalline sap dwells,
Tree bark houses, tree bark shoes.
Long green journeys, into sounds of death.
Cries of who blows, who blows, who blows,
Rings of raindrops, on damp streets.
Quietly disappearing, in fearmottled night,
Sweeping over asphalt mesas, to long gutters,
Where gray birds lie, gone time is buried,
Safe from hideous laughter, babblings,
Of sidewalk fools, tongues straining,
Flicking, on steps of air, nervously,
Glowing blue, black, blue, black,
In the shapes of night.
*
Questions to think about: This is a poem of vivid imagination, and maybe a little disturbing. What does the poet see and hear? What is the mood of the poem? Can you write a poem about "walk sounds," maybe one much different from Bob Kaufman's? Could you write a daytime counterpart to Kaufman's nighttime poem?
Soft noise, where crystalline sap dwells,
Tree bark houses, tree bark shoes.
Long green journeys, into sounds of death.
Cries of who blows, who blows, who blows,
Rings of raindrops, on damp streets.
Quietly disappearing, in fearmottled night,
Sweeping over asphalt mesas, to long gutters,
Where gray birds lie, gone time is buried,
Safe from hideous laughter, babblings,
Of sidewalk fools, tongues straining,
Flicking, on steps of air, nervously,
Glowing blue, black, blue, black,
In the shapes of night.
*
Questions to think about: This is a poem of vivid imagination, and maybe a little disturbing. What does the poet see and hear? What is the mood of the poem? Can you write a poem about "walk sounds," maybe one much different from Bob Kaufman's? Could you write a daytime counterpart to Kaufman's nighttime poem?
One Boy Told Me
by Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952)
Text of the poem at Poetry Foundation.
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Naomi Shihab Nye reads (part of!) the poem.
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Question to think about: Has something a person said to you, or a part of a conversation you might have heard, struck you as suitable for a poem?
Text of the poem at Poetry Foundation.
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Naomi Shihab Nye reads (part of!) the poem.
*
Question to think about: Has something a person said to you, or a part of a conversation you might have heard, struck you as suitable for a poem?
Poem 543
by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
I fear a Man of frugal Speech —
I fear a Silent Man —
Haranguer — I can overtake —
Or Babbler — entertain —
But He who weigheth — While the Rest —
Expend their furthest pound —
Of this Man — I am wary —
I fear that He is Grand —
*
Note: A harangue is a long, sometimes angry or insistent speech, usually trying to persuade someone. Tirade is a similar word.
Question to think about: Why should the man of "frugal Speech" be feared more than the angry haranguer?
I fear a Man of frugal Speech —
I fear a Silent Man —
Haranguer — I can overtake —
Or Babbler — entertain —
But He who weigheth — While the Rest —
Expend their furthest pound —
Of this Man — I am wary —
I fear that He is Grand —
*
Note: A harangue is a long, sometimes angry or insistent speech, usually trying to persuade someone. Tirade is a similar word.
Question to think about: Why should the man of "frugal Speech" be feared more than the angry haranguer?
Poem 288
by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise—you know!
How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
*
Questions to think about: What's going on here? Why doesn't the "Nobody" who is speaking in the poem want to be "advertised"? Why is it "dreary to be Somebody"?
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise—you know!
How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
*
Questions to think about: What's going on here? Why doesn't the "Nobody" who is speaking in the poem want to be "advertised"? Why is it "dreary to be Somebody"?
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