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Bartlett's Poems for Occasions

Page 16

by Geoffrey O'Brien


  AMERICAN (1914-1972)

  From a Survivor

  The pact that we made was the ordinary pact

  of men & women in those days

  I don’t know who we thought we were

  that our personalities

  could resist the failures of the race

  Lucky or unlucky, we didn’t know

  the race had failures of that order

  and that we were going to share them

  Like everybody else, we thought of ourselves as special

  Your body is as vivid to me

  as it ever was: even more

  since my feeling for it is clearer:

  I know what it could do and could not do

  it is no longer

  the body of a god

  or anything with power over my life

  Next year it would have been 20 years

  and you are wastefully dead

  who might have made the leap

  we talked, too late, of making

  which I live now

  not as a leap

  but a succession of brief, amazing movements

  each one making possible the next

  ADRIENNE RICH

  AMERICAN (B. 1929)

  I Thought It Was Harry

  Excuse me. I thought for a moment you were someone I know.

  It happens to me. One time at The Circle in the Square

  when it was still in the Square, I turned my head

  when the lights went up and saw me there with a girl

  and another couple. Out in the lobby, I looked

  right at him and he looked away. I was no one he knew.

  Well, it takes two, as they say, and I don’t know what

  it would prove anyway. Do we know who we are,

  do you think? Kids seem to know. One time I asked

  a little girl. She said she’d been sick. She said

  she’d looked different and felt different. I said,

  “Maybe it wasn’t you. How do you know?”

  “Oh, I was me,” she said, “I know I was.”

  That part doesn’t bother me anymore

  or not the way it did. I’m nobody else

  and nobody anyway. It’s all the rest

  I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

  It hit me. I thought it was Harry when I saw you

  and thought, “I’ll ask Harry.” I don’t suppose

  he knows, though. It’s not that I get confused.

  I don’t mean that. If someone appeared and said,

  “Ask me questions,” I wouldn’t know where to start.

  I don’t have questions even. It’s the way I fade

  as though I were someone’s snapshot left in the light.

  And the background fades the way it might if we woke

  in the wrong twilight and things got dim and grey

  while we waited for them to sharpen. Less and less

  is real. No fixed point. Questions fix

  a point, as answers do. Things move again

  and the only place to move is away. It was wrong:

  questions and answers are what to be without

  and all we learn is how sound our ignorance is.

  That’s what I wanted to talk to Harry about.

  You looked like him. Thank you anyway.

  WILLIAM BRONK

  AMERICAN (1918-1999)

  RETIREMENT FROM WORK AND FROM THE WORLD

  Returning to the Fields

  When I was young I was out of tune with the herd:

  My only love was for the hills and mountains.

  Unwitting I fell into the Web of the World’s dust

  And was not free until my thirtieth year.

  The migrant bird longs for the old wood:

  The fish in the tank thinks of its native pool.

  I had rescued from wildness a patch of the Southern Moor

  And, still rustic, I returned to field and garden.

  My ground covers no more than ten acres:

  My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms.

  Elms and willows cluster by the eaves:

  Peach trees and plum trees grow before the Hall.

  Hazy, hazy the distant hamlets of men.

  Steady the smoke of the half-deserted village,

  A dog barks somewhere in the deep lanes,

  A cock crows at the top of the mulberry tree.

  At gate and courtyard—no murmur of the World’s dust:

  In the empty rooms—leisure and deep stillness.

  Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage:

  Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom.

  T’AO CH’IEN

  CHINESE (372?-427)

  TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR WALEY

  Ease

  Lined coat, warm cap and easy felt slippers,

  In the little tower, at the low window, sitting over the sunken brazier.

  Body at rest, heart at peace; no need to rise early.

  I wonder if the courtiers at the Western Capital know of these things or not?

  PO CHü-I

  CHINESE (772-846)

  TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR WALEY

  Climb at court for me that will

  Climb at court for me that will

  Tottering Favor’s pinnacle;

  All I seek is to lie still.

  Settled in some secret nest

  In calm leisure let me rest;

  And far off the public stage

  Pass away my silent age.

  Thus when without noise, unknown,

  I have lived out all my span,

  I shall die, without a groan,

  An old honest country man.

  Who, exposed to others’ eyes,

  Into his own heart ne’er pries,

  Death to him’s a strange surprise.

  SENECA

  ROMAN (54 B.C.?-39 A.D.)

  TRANSLATED BY ANDREW MARVELL

  Farewell to the Court

  Like truthless dreams, so are my joys expired,

  And past return are all my dandled days:

  My love misled, and fancy quite retired,

  Of all which past the sorrow only stays.

  My lost delights now clean from sight of land

  Have left me all alone in unknown ways:

  My mind to woe, my life in fortune’s hand,

  Of all which past the sorrow only stays.

  As in a country strange without companion

  I only wail the wrong of death’s delays,

  Whose sweet spring spent, whose summer well nigh done,

  Of all which past the sorrow only stays:

  Whom care forewarns, ere age and winter cold,

  To haste me hence to find my fortune’s fold.

  SIR WALTER RALEGH

  ENGLISH (1552?-1618)

  The Garden

  How vainly men themselves amaze

  To win the palm, the oak, or bays,

  And their uncessant labours see

  Crowned from some single herb or tree,

  Whose short and narrow vergèd shade

  Does prudently their toils upbraid,

  While all flowers and all trees do close

  To weave the garlands of repose.

  Fair Quiet, have I found thee here,

  And Innocence, thy sister dear!

  Mistaken long, I sought you then

  In busy companies of men.

  Your sacred plants, if here below,

  Only among the plants will grow.

  Society is all but rude,

  To this delicious solitude.

  No white nor red was ever seen

  So am’rous as this lovely green.

  Fond lovers, cruel as their flame,

  Cut in these trees their mistress’ name.

  Little, alas, they know, or heed,

  How far these beauties hers exceed!

  Fair trees! wheres’e’er your barks I wound,

  No name shall but your own be found.

  When
we have run our passion’s heat,

  Love hither makes his best retreat.

  The gods, that mortal beauty chase,

  Still in a tree did end their race.

  Apollo hunted Daphne so,

  Only that she might laurel grow.

  And Pan did after Syrinx speed,

  Not as a nymph, but for a reed.

  What wondrous life is this I lead!

  Ripe apples drop about my head;

  The luscious clusters of the vine

  Upon my mouth do crush their wine;

  The nectarene, and curious peach,

  Into my hands themselves do reach;

  Stumbling on melons, as I pass,

  Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.

  Meanwhile the mind, from pleasures less,

  Withdraws into its happiness:

  The mind, that ocean where each kind

  Does straight its own resemblance find,

  Yet it creates, transcending these,

  Far other worlds, and other seas,

  Annihilating all that’s made

  To a green thought in a green shade.

  Here at the fountain’s sliding foot,

  Or at some fruit-tree’s mossy root,

  Casting the body’s vest aside,

  My soul into the boughs does glide:

  There like a bird it sits, and sings,

  Then whets, and combs its silver wings;

  And, till prepared for longer flight,

  Waves in its plumes the various light.

  Such was that happy garden-state,

  While man there walked without a mate:

  After a place so pure, and sweet,

  What other help could yet be meet!

  But ’twas beyond a mortal’s share

  To wander solitary there:

  Two paradises ’twere in one

  To live in paradise alone.

  How well the skilful gardener drew

  Of flowers and herbs this dial new,

  Where from above the milder sun

  Does through a fragrant zodiac run;

  And, as it works, the industrious bee

  Computes its time as well as we.

  How could such sweet and wholesome hours

  Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers!

  ANDREW MARVELL

  ENGLISH (1621-1678)

  The world is too much with us

  The world is too much with us; late and soon,

  Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

  Little we see in Nature that is ours;

  We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

  This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

  The winds that will be howling at all hours,

  And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

  For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

  It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be

  A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

  So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

  Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

  Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

  Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

  WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

  ENGLISH (1770-1850)

  His heart was in his garden

  His heart was in his garden; but his brain

  Wandered at will among the fiery stars:

  Bards, heroes, prophets, Homers, Hamilcars,

  With many angels, stood, his eye to gain;

  The devils, too, were his familiars.

  And yet the cunning florist held his eyes

  Close to the ground,—a tulip-bulb his prize, —

  And talked of tan and bone-dust, cutworms, grubs,

  As though all Nature held no higher strain;

  Or, if he spoke of Art, he made the theme

  Flow through box-borders, turf, and flower-tubs;

  Or, like a garden-engine’s, steered the stream, —

  Now spouted rainbows to the silent skies;

  Now kept it flat, and raked the walks and shrubs.

  FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN

  AMERICAN (1821-1873)

  The Last Word

  Creep into thy narrow bed,

  Creep, and let no more be said!

  Vain thy onset! all stands fast.

  Thou thyself must break at last.

  Let the long contention cease!

  Geese are swans, and swans are geese.

  Let them have it how they will!

  Thou art tired; best be still.

  They out-talked thee, hissed thee, tore thee?

  Better men fared thus before thee;

  Fired their ringing shot and passed,

  Hotly charged—and sank at last.

  Charge once more, then, and be dumb!

  Let the victors, when they come,

  When the forts of folly fall,

  Find thy body by the wall!

  MATTHEW ARNOLD

  ENGLISH (1822-1888)

  Leisure

  What is this life if, full of care,

  We have no time to stand and stare.

  No time to stand beneath the boughs

  And stare as long as sheep or cows.

  No time to see, when woods we pass,

  Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

  No time to see, in broad daylight,

  Streams full of stars like skies at night.

  No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,

  And watch her feet, how they can dance.

  No time to wait till her mouth can

  Enrich that smile her eyes began.

  A poor life this if, full of care,

  We have no time to stand and stare.

  W. H. DAVIES

  ENGLISH (1871-1940)

  Moving In

  I moved into my house one day

  In a downpour of leaves and rain,

  “I took possession,” as they say,

  With solitude for my domain.

  At first it was an empty place

  Where every room I came to meet

  Watched me in silence like a face:

  I heard the whisper of my feet.

  So huge the absence walking there

  Beside me on the yellow floor,

  That one fly buzzing on the air

  But made the stillness more and more.

  What I possessed was all my own,

  Yet not to be possessed at all,

  And not a house or even hearthstone,

  And never any sheltering wall.

  There solitude became my task,

  No shelter but a grave demand,

  And I must answer, never ask,

  Taking this bridegroom by the hand.

  I moved into my life one day

  In a downpour of leaves in flood,

  I took possession as they say,

  And knew I was alone for good.

  MAY SARTON

  AMERICAN (1912-1995)

  AGING

  Written in a Carefree Mood

  Old man pushing seventy,

  in truth he acts like a little boy,

  whooping with delight when he spies some mountain fruits,

  laughing with joy, tagging after village mummers;

  with the others having fun stacking tiles to make a pagoda,

  standing alone staring at his image in a jardiniere pool.

  Tucked under his arm, a battered book to read,

  just like the time he first set off for school.

  LU YU

  CHINESE (1125-1210)

  TRANSLATED BY BURTON WATSON

  That time of year thou may’st in me behold

  That time of year thou may’st in me behold

  When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

  Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

  Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

  In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

  As after sunset f
adeth in the west;

  Which by and by black night doth take away,

  Death’s second self, that seals up all the rest.

  In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,

  That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

  As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

  Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

  This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

  To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

  ENGLISH (1564-1616)

  Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore

  Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore,

  So do our minutes hasten to their end;

  Each changing place with that which goes before,

  In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

  Nativity, once in the main of light,

  Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,

  Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight,

  And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.

  Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth

  And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,

  Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,

  And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:

  And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,

  Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

  ENGLISH (1564-1616)

  Tired with all these, for restful death I cry

  Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,

  As, to behold desert a beggar born,

  And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,

  And purest faith unhappily forsworn,

  And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,

  And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,

  And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,

  And strength by limping sway disabled,

  And art made tongue-tied by authority,

  And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,

  And simple truth miscalled simplicity,

  And captive good attending captain ill:

  Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,

  Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

  ENGLISH (1564-1616)

  The World a-hunting is

  The World a-hunting is:

  The prey poor Man, the Nimrod fierce is Death;

  His speedy greyhounds are

  Lust, Sickness, Envy, Care,

  Strife that ne’er falls amiss,

  With all those ills which haunt us while we breathe.

 

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