Sunday 9 May 2010

Songs of the Valley


Ingredients:
A selection of nature-inspired poems by five American poets I had never heard of before.


Directions:

The Fountain (Denise Levertov)

Don't say, don't say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen

the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes

found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.

The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched, but not because
she grudged the water,

only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
refreshed.

Don't say, don't say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped
green and gray stones,

it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,

up and out through the rock.



Forsooth I am a Gypsy  (Charles G. Blanden)

My soul is full of morning,
My heart is full of song;
Forsooth, I am a gypsy
That roves the world along.

Beyond the Hills of Shadow,
Beyond the Vales o' Fear,
I pitch my tent and tarry
A day, a month, a year.

And none shall tax my spirit,
And none my dreams destroy;
For I am free as winds are,
A comrade unto Joy!


I Hear a River thro’ the Valley Wander  (Trumball Stickney)

I hear a river thro’ the valley wander
Whose water runs, the song alone remaining.
A rainbow stands and summer passes under.



Stranger (Thomas Merton)

When no one listens
To the quiet trees
When no one notices
The sun in the pool.

Where no one feels
The first drop of rain
Or sees the last star

Or hails the first morning
Of a giant world
Where peace begins
And rages end:

One bird sits still
Watching the work of God:
One turning leaf,
Two falling blossoms,
Ten circles upon the pond.

One cloud upon the hillside,
Two shadows in the valley
And the light strikes home.
Now dawn commands the capture
Of the tallest fortune,
The surrender
Of no less marvelous prize!

Closer and clearer
Than any wordy master,
Thou inward Stranger
Whom I have never seen,

Deeper and cleaner
Than the clamorous ocean,
Seize up my silence
Hold me in Thy Hand!

Now act is waste
And suffering undone
Laws become prodigals
Limits are torn down
For envy has no property
And passion is none.

Look, the vast Light stands still
Our cleanest Light is One!



The Song of Siva  (Ameen Rihani)

'Tis Night; all the Sirens are silent,
All the vultures asleep;
And the horns of the Tempest are stirring
Under the Deep;
'Tis Night' all the snow-burdened Mountains
Dream of the Sea,
And down in the Wadi the River
Is calling to me.

'Tis Night; all the Caves of the Spirit
Shake with desire;
And the Orient Heaven's essaying
Its lances of fire;
They hear, in the stillness that covers
The land and the sea,
The River, in the heart of the Wadi,
Calling to me.

'Tis Night, but a night of great joyance,
A night of unrest; --
The night of the birth of the spirit
Of the East and the West;
And the Caves and the Mountains are dancing
On the Foam of the Sea,
For the River inundant is calling,
Calling to me.

11 comments:

  1. On Reason and Passion (Kahlil Gibran)

         Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite.
         Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody.
         But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements?

         Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.
         For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.
         Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing;
         And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

         I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house.
         Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both.

         Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows -- then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason."
         And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky -- then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion."
         And since you are a breath in God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

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  2. Oh each a beauty and worthy of a separate blog for reflection and you finished with my favorite book, methinks, overall...and speak of reason and passion. Beautiful Okei.

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  3. Yes, I think I've over-burdened the reader with so many poems at once, just like watching more than one film in a day. But I like to bring things together on a common theme, so it's a dilemma. I'm offering a choice, and in life we are over-burdened with choice. I guess the common theme is the natural mystic, now that I think of it. And I leave it to the reader to choose what "one thing" to focus on and take away.

    That first poem is a real grower.

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  4. And indeed... "rest in reason, move in passion" :-)

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  5. I think its a lovely blog. And totally unexpected. I expected to find beverage recipes and instead I got mind quenching beauty.

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  6. Lol. I use my Recipes section for stuff written by others. Beverages means spiritual stuff, like mystical wine, desserts for romantic stuff, the deserted lover, soups and stews for melancholy stuff, breakfast and brunch for inspirational stuff, etc.. :)

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  7. Don't say, don't say there is no water
    to solace the dryness at our hearts.
    I have seen

    the fountain springing out of the rock wall
    and you drinking there. And I too
    before your eyes

    found footholds and climbed
    to drink the cool water.

    The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
    frowned as she watched, but not because
    she grudged the water,

    only because she was waiting
    to see we drank our fill and were
    refreshed.

    Don't say, don't say there is no water.
    That fountain is there among its scalloped
    green and gray stones,

    it is still there and always there
    with its quiet song and strange power
    to spring in us,

    up and out through the rock.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I loved the picture that you posted too. It seemed so perfect, its image upon my mind and those words making me thirsty to quench my thirst by the stream.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ahh! Thanks again, Rose! And for following up on that "one thing" to take away.

    The painting is Canyon (1923) by the American painter and illustrator Maxfield Parrish.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Thanks, Cyn! Pretty crystals you have in your avatar! To be honest, they're making me hungry. ;^)

    ReplyDelete