The Thrush
In the mist-drunk hour before the sun's lamp lights
she sang like a thrush in the violet haze
to the man, her helmstone through bitter days:
o say will you have me
yes or no?
I'll gladly give you a cup of tears
emptied out upon the ground;
each tear a pearl, each pearl a sound:
blue loving's sigh, a dream of rain
skippering sharp on a green sea wall.
I'll give you back twelve golden years.
Those years elsewise could
not return,
the years you lost, the life you burned,
a thousand nights, each night a rose
flowering with a different name.
I'll give you a pen with quicksilver ink
a pen of wet stars for fifteen dreams
in rings of time and all lost worlds
and however you write your words will sing
I tell you true, it will be just so.
O say will you have me
yes or no?
He spoke from below her darkened tree:
all these I would take if you were she,
if you were the thing you can never be,
instead of a thrush with notes of air
that sings before dawn
without a soul.
~March 2016
posted for real toads
This poem was 'translated' from a translation, of a Swedish folk song called "Herr Mannelig"
Image: Wing Of A Blue Roller, 1512, Albrecht Durer public domain
7 comments:
This is achingly beautiful - each stanza a treasure of imagery and emotive language. I would like to hear this sung.
Hey Wildflower, first, thanks so much for participating in the prompt. This is such a beautiful poem. You have used a classic trope, but transposed it really (at least in my view), not from slightly questionable spirit to soldier or knight whatever strong man type guy is around--or gallant--or even wizard type - to a different kind of exchange. Sometimes it seems like muse to artist, but it is also like voice to mouthpiece, the thrush seeming somehow rather pathetic (in the good sense of the word) in this rendition--not so much troll (who could also be genuinely trapped but has a more malevolent aspect and intentions.) One wonders and can imagine that this thrush wants the coupling for protection and companionship as much as freedom, and so there is a sadness in the man's refusal==a kind of sadness that life cannot be different than it is, that we cannot change our natures, rather than a feeling of escaping a trick or trap. A thrush and a man simply can't be betrothed, and the promises that a beautiful song offers may not be fulfillable as beautiful as they are--and these are really beautiful and promising promises--I love the quicksilver pen--I keep thinking of a little ball(point) of mercury rolling about and it is wonderful to think that the words could always come out right--the other promises--the years that could be re-lived, the nights of roses, the tears that are pearls and a dream of rain are also beautiful and memorable--the skippering line terrific--, and there is a wonderful lyricism throughout with the rhymes and slant rhymes and the musical but non-sing-song rhythm. Anyway, a great pleasure to read, and thanks. k. (Oh, I could not find the lyrics of the song in the beautiful youtube video but read them on Wikipedia--here's the link I found which had them in swedish/English also. (Made me want to visit the old country!) (Ha!) k. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herr_Mannelig
ps - love the drunk on mist or whatever it is--afraid to go back and lose comment--I have been plenty drunk on the missed. k.
This is utterly stunning:
"I'll gladly give you a cup of tears
emptied out upon the ground;
each tear a pearl, each pearl a sound:
blue loving's sigh, a dream of rain
skippering sharp on a green sea wall."
Oh I really love this, and actually moving it from troll and knight to thrush to something more achingly beautiful... the folklore is still preserved but your poetry is much more beautiful...
There is immense beauty in the melancholia housed by these lines. The last stanza nearly broke my heart. I mentally reached out for her... feeling that no legs would be able to stand after such blow to the heart. But then I pulled back, remembering that she has wings.
So beautiful in its melancholy..the emotive tone reaches deep in my spirit
This is amazingly meaty for someone who likes try to see how you did it. The rhyme scheme changes in the last two stanzas, but it never jars. Your use of short--but just the right--words makes this like a mosaic of sounds, all remarkably evocative for all their brevity.
The final response from the lover reminds me very much of Leonard Cohen's song "Teachers": "Are you a teacher of the heart? Yes, but not for thee." Stunning in its rebuke, all the worse for being phrased with judgement but seemingly without rancor. Just such marvelous stuff.
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