Peter Bruun: Two Scenes with Skylark
Peter Bruun: 2 Scenes with Skylark
Text: Gerard Manley Hopkins
The Sea and the Skylark
ON ear and ear two noises too old to end
Trench-right, the tide that ramps against the shore;
With a flood or a fall, low lull-off or all roar,
Frequenting there while moon shall wear and wend.
Left hand, off land, I hear the lark ascend,
His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd score
In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl, and pour
How these two shame this shallow and frail town!
How ring right out our sordid turbid time,
Our make and making break, are breaking, down
That bird beyond the remembering his free fells;
Though aloft on turf or perch or poor low stage
Both sing sometímes the sweetest, sweetest spells,
Yet both droop deadly sómetimes in their cells
Or wring their barriers in bursts of fear or rage.
Not that the sweet-fowl, song-fowl, needs no rest
Why, hear him, hear him babble and drop down to his nest,
But his own nest, wild nest, no prison.
But uncumbered: meadow-down is not distressed
For a rainbow footing it nor he for his bónes rísen.