If anyone has time or inclination, let me know which form of the poem you prefer: original (1) or this re-worked version (2).
When My Head Was Like Seaweed Braids
When falls the rain, I join - I shriek from fear of heights and spires;
we overshoot misty tarmacs of
aerodromes of clouds; we stream on, pell-mell, to the lake,
like the water-pals we are!
When fire-flies come out, I start my motor up with ardor
and burn the black sheets of night, chasing
all girls and boys back to roasting marshmallows on the beach,
to bon-fires richly burning!
When they go a-fishing, I cry: beware my finny friends!
beware wood lips painted tawdry red:
meretricious bait! for it will make you sometime soon
a deadly trophy on a wall!
I gossip with crickets, and swap stories with the buzzing bee,
and sat up all night with the merry,
drunken lark of morn, with slurried voice, who sang his song:
all top gallants to the wind!
Dear Life! did I hold on for, when I had split and cleaved
the head of grass! lithesome, silky seed!
blue and green gramineous escarpment, from whose top
I madly rappelled to earth!
When city-side, I do not rise, I cannot freely fly
as naked as fire-flies burning
scrub, and till, and bush. In city-side no one sees
my glow - oh, Lord! - my glow!
When falls the rain, I join - I shriek from fear of heights and spires;
we overshoot misty tarmacs of
aerodromes of clouds; we stream on, pell-mell, to the lake,
like the water-pals we are!
When fire-flies come out, I start my motor up with ardor
and burn the black sheets of night, chasing
all girls and boys back to roasting marshmallows on the beach,
to bon-fires richly burning!
When they go a-fishing, I cry: beware my finny friends!
beware wood lips painted tawdry red:
meretricious bait! for it will make you sometime soon
a deadly trophy on a wall!
I gossip with crickets, and swap stories with the buzzing bee,
and sat up all night with the merry,
drunken lark of morn, with slurried voice, who sang his song:
all top gallants to the wind!
Dear Life! did I hold on for, when I had split and cleaved
the head of grass! lithesome, silky seed!
blue and green gramineous escarpment, from whose top
I madly rappelled to earth!
When city-side, I do not rise, I cannot freely fly
as naked as fire-flies burning
scrub, and till, and bush. In city-side no one sees
my glow - oh, Lord! - my glow!
2 comments:
After a quick first read of each, the original first, I prefer the first. My initial reading made the original seem more child-like and unstudied - more worthy of the exclamation points, lines as a surprise.
I really like the affinity of the speaker with Nature in this poem (either version).
Thanks, Ruth.
I see your point. Interesting.
It also wakes me up to the distinct possibility that there is a studied way to remain child-like - which, obviously, I have not found.
I have relied on the traditional so far.
I am going to experiment with that.
And - like you - the affinity with nature is wondeful to me. And the poem should reflect the Intimacy of the title: man and nature intertwined.
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