Poem of the Day -- Reprise
The Windhover
--To Christ our Lord
I caught this morning morning's minion, king
-dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
-- Gerard Manley Hopkins
--To Christ our Lord
I caught this morning morning's minion, king
-dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
-- Gerard Manley Hopkins
posted by Kate Marie | 1:42 PM | Permalink
|
10 comments
10 Comments:
Whenever I read "and striding / High there," I hear, "and striding, / 'Hi there!'"
Hope I didn't ruin the poem for you.
Jeffery "Wormtongue" Hodges
* * *
"High there," Wormtongue!
Mr. Hopkins needs a Strunk and White for Chirstmas. What the hell is he talking about? He mentions Christ in the beginning and then just babbles on about God knows what. Whatever happened to clear concise writing? If I was his writing teacher, I'd give a D- and send him off to re write land. I could just see putting THAT in an amicus brief. The court would hold you in contempt.
That's why he's a poet and you're a lawyer . . . and all is right with the world.
So, now you must stoop to insults and call me "a lawyer" this close to Christmas. Get behind thee Satan.
And I've known poets. I've read poetry. And he is NO Poet (with apologies to Lloyd Bentson).
And what's your opinion of Mozart, O Patron of the Arts? Too many notes? :)
Nonsense. Mozart was a genius. This guy is the Saleri of poetry.
I bet that poem wouldn't get through the electronic scorer of the new SAT writing test.
I think that it's about a hovercraft that crashed, right? I mean, isn't that what the fire mentioned near the end is about? The Windhover crashed and burned, right? I think that I remember when this happened.
Why didn't this Hopkins guy just report it clearly?
Whoever Hopkins is, he has a whole lot to learn about writing clear journalism.
Jeffery "Bonehead" Hodges
* * *
Exactly, HGH. The problem with modern journalism is that they lost the who, what, when, where, and how that we pick up the paper to learn. Instead, we get a weak attempt at poetic and creative writing to tell us about how some crack head is reformed.
And the "poets" can't seem to do anything other than confuse in the name of art.
Now, as I recall, Windhover is a town in Belgium that saw action in WWII and was an episode of Band of Brothers. Wasn't it the site of a bloody battle in Operation Market Garden? But this "poem" that KM posted. I'm just confused. It might be the flu bug that is ravaging the house, or OD on Robitussen, but I'm frankly offended at this posting. I mean, come on, "The big wind"? So when does farting lead to iambic pentamater, or a weak attempt therof? And "Stirred for a bird".
Hey, I'm making gravy for the Turkey on Sunday. I don't need to be reminded. And don't get me started on Ecstasy. Those poor girls, living in a crack house. I must get me to church this week to prithee a prayer for KM's wayward soul.
Post a Comment
<< Home