A man is standing in the hall
His house not recognizing.
Her sudden leaving was a flight,
Herself, maybe, surprising.
The chaos reigning in the room
He does not try to master.
His tears and headache hide in gloom
The extent of his disaster.
His ears are ringing all day long
As though he has been drinking.
And why is it that all the time
Of waves he keeps on thinking?
When frosty window-panes blank out
The world of light and motion,
Despair and grief are doubly like
The desert of the ocean.
She was as dear to him, as close
In all her ways and features,
As is the seashore to the wave,
The ocean to the beaches.
As over rushes, after storm
The swell of water surges,
Into the deepness of his soul
Her memory submerges.
In years of strife, in times which were
Unthinkable to live in,
Upon a wave of destiny
To him she had been driven,
Through countless obstacles, and past
All dangers never-ended,
The wave had carried, carried her,
Till close to him she'd landed.
And now, so suddenly, she'd left.
What power overrode them?
The parting will destroy them both,
The grief bone-deep corrode them.
He looks around him. On the floor
In frantic haste she'd scattered
The contents of the cupboard, scraps
Of stuff, her sewing patterns.
He wanders through deserted rooms
And tidies up for hours;
Till darkness falls he folds away
Her things into the drawers;
And pricks his finger on a pin
In her unfinished sewing,
And sees the whole of her again,
And silent tears come flowing.
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From guest Craig (contact)
This poem and several of other of his really hit home when I was going through a break up several years with the woman at the time who I thought was to be my fiance. Powerful stuff which at the time I identified strongly with and knew the feeling expressed to my bones. I read their translations many times. Rereading reminds me of much and speaks to my memories still. Another time, another place halfway around the globe, another language and culture, and still the same moment again. -
This poem, i feel, is a man having a hard time, a rough life. But then a woman came to him and his life settled down. He had become much happier until the day she left him. This poem takes place while this person is crying right after the departure of his lady. Near the end he starts to clean up the mess she left. (I'm assuming this was after a fight or something). He put all her things back in her drawers and when he went to pick up her sewing that was not finished yet, he poked himself with the pin. After this happen i believe it is saying that this reminded him of her and of who she is, and he began to cry again.
This poem made me feel very sad and made me wonder about why the two had parted. I believe my favorite parts would have to be stanzas five, seven, and eight. The three stanzas were just so cute and perfectly written. They all flowed perfectly and made me smile.
This is an excellent poem. I have not read another from oldpoetry that has ever been this good. I had to reread this poem a few times just so I could really feel it but once I did, I noticed all the words, and I believe I understood it correctly. I love the way it was written and the rhyming was beautiful.
I can think of only a few technical errors that would sound better if changed. The first I noticed was that "And why is it that all the time" should maybe have a comma after it, just to make it easier to read and for the flow to run better. I also believe that even though "Till" is okay, I think 'Til would be better because then it is obvious that it is short for until. This poem is excellent in keeping the tenses straight though so great job on that. Excellent poem. -
nice!!!! nice!!!
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