Scotland - after Gerard Manley Hopkins
Posted: Sat Sep 05, 2009 1:58 pm
It's been a long time since I wrote anything hence my absence from the forum. To try to get myself going again I went back to writing a kind of vilanelle, taking the refrain from another text and filling in my lines around them. In this case the text comes from a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins and can be found on a plaque on the Scottish Parliament building in Edinburgh.
Scotland
after Gerard Manley Hopkins
Let them be left, O let them be left,
The bog and the slow-sucking wounds in the slough:
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Let it be known that I, prophet all purposeless,
Forfeit my books for the beauty of loneliness:
Let them be left, O let them be left.
Fired by whisky’s hot grasp on my throat,
I cry to the rocks in a drunken epiphany,
‘Long live the weeds and the wilderness!’ Yet,
As the hills must submit to the sea-lochs’ embrace,
So I must return to my filthy Jerusalem:
Let them be left, O let them be left,
The prayers which I buried with thorns on the shore,
Where the waves sing the psalm which the winds shall repeat:
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
I have heard the wild spaces: in heather they said,
‘We are tide, we are time, we will never forget’:
Let them be left, O let them be left,
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Scotland
after Gerard Manley Hopkins
Let them be left, O let them be left,
The bog and the slow-sucking wounds in the slough:
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Let it be known that I, prophet all purposeless,
Forfeit my books for the beauty of loneliness:
Let them be left, O let them be left.
Fired by whisky’s hot grasp on my throat,
I cry to the rocks in a drunken epiphany,
‘Long live the weeds and the wilderness!’ Yet,
As the hills must submit to the sea-lochs’ embrace,
So I must return to my filthy Jerusalem:
Let them be left, O let them be left,
The prayers which I buried with thorns on the shore,
Where the waves sing the psalm which the winds shall repeat:
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
I have heard the wild spaces: in heather they said,
‘We are tide, we are time, we will never forget’:
Let them be left, O let them be left,
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.