by Louis MacNeice (1907-1963)(Belfast, Ireland)
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.
I love the last stanza even though I can't really relate to it. Not yet anyway. In the third stanza I think the church bell defying is something about death. I have not an inkiling as to why Egypt is thrown in there but I love it. For some reason even though I don't know what it actually means, calling out to Egypt really resonates with me and makes perfect sense. the whole end of life/ twilight of life thing is really sad, but more in a melancholy way than morose.
dead poets... almost as good as all those dead freedom fighters we learn about, except the poets are less understood. and less famous.
I've made a new day's resolution a few days ago. I'm recovering, not getting worse. Every time I start feeling sorry for myself I remind myself that I am moving forward not looking back. I'm going to smell flowers and bake cupcakes and write short stories and conquer the world. I'm going to do things I feel proud of and love doing.
On the path of my conquering mindset I started my summer homework and baked cupcakes from scratch yesterday. They are really super cute. And I read a whole bunch of MacNeice's work online. I love him (as demonstrated above). I also plan on finding some stories for my budding radio career. I'm going to make my dreams come true all on my own and I'm going to be happy today as I set off towards my beautiful twilight.
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