Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Morning

For my Brit Lit 3 class, one of the options for a paper was to write a poem emulating a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I chose his poem "Spring" and made my own rendition, "Morning."

Here is my version:

Morning

Nothing is so beautiful as morning-
When clouds, in clumps, dazing pink and purple and pretty;
Light’s rays lightly linger in long streaks of colour, lighting
Humble treetops, roofs of buildings, so they scorch and sear
The eye, bricks reflecting molten fire to my gaze;
The ground is sparkling, and the morning insects sing
The unassuming colours of the sky; the sky all lazy
With loveliness; the waking people move so slow.

What is all this creeping and this crawling?
A strain of the day’s sweet life, unfilled potential
In our world – Run, live, before it cloy,
Before it hurry, and burn in dusking orange,
Innocent morning and the waking dreams of dawn,
Most, your sweet awakening, shall always be worth the waiting.

And here is his poem:

Spring

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring-
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. - Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Edit: I'm irritated at Blogger because it removed all of the indentations that are present in both poems. No matter how I try and put them in, however, they do not show. So I guess you'll just have to imagine that they are well-formatted and lovely. Sigh!

-Jesse

4 comments:

  1. *uses imagination*
    Yes, I see the indentation. We writers know that sites like these just mess up our plans for writing.

    Beautiful poem, Jesse. <3

    So...does this mean you're starting to appreciate mornings? I know you always loved them when I was over there where you were. ;) *wink wink*

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  2. This is exactly why I'm so hesitant about putting my poetry on blogger... it'll blogger up my work and make it look boring. ;)

    Otherwise, I love your poem - and his as well.

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  3. I have always adored mornings. I have an obsession with describing them... only thing is that I do NOT like to be awake to see them. I just don't like waking up early. But I do love staying up late to see them... although randomly I've started waking up early and seeing a lot of them. I still think morning might be my favourite time of the day (besides like 3 am when everyone is asleep)... mornings are always cold. Always. And the light has such an innocent quality to it... sunsets, on the other hand, have this burning, full sense to them... like they've seen a whole day and it has left its mark on them. In the mornings, though, the light is always blue and hazy and empty - full of potential but not yet coloured or damaged by the day's events. By evening, though, the sun goes out burning, dazzling, and fighting. So yeah. I like the quiet triumph over darkness in the morning than the flailing, wild flaring of the evening.

    But yes. XP

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  4. Awww. I like your poem. Yes, mornings are amazing. Of course, I am a morning person. I like what you said about the darkness being quietly triumphed.
    <3

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