Boasts time mocks cumber Rome. Wren
set up his own monument.
Others watch fells dwindle, think
the sun's fires sink.
Stones indeed sift to sand, oak
blends with saints' bones.
Yet for a little longer here
stone and oak shelter
silence while we ask nothing
but silence. Look how clouds dance
under the wind's wing, and leaves
delight in transience.
—Basil Bunting, 1975
From Jacket, where you will find an explication of the compressed first line and a link to a RealAudio file of Bunting reading the poem.
Transience. Five years is a long time and no time at all.
Posted by languagehat at September 11, 2006 08:07 PMThis poem is quite good, can some one give me its proper refference. will be greatful.
Posted by: Moses Quinion Galabuzi at September 12, 2006 10:26 AM"Basil Bunting" - name or activity?
Posted by: dearieme at September 12, 2006 12:41 PMMoses: "At Briggflatts Meetinghouse" is #11 in Bunting's Second Book of Odes; it's in his Complete Poems, which I highly recommend if you like this one. The proportion of quality to bulk (it's a slim volume) is as high as in the works of any poet I know.
dearieme: Or decor!
Posted by: language hat at September 12, 2006 01:29 PMThis is a lapidary piece. Thank you.
Posted by: Fragano Ledgister at September 12, 2006 02:09 PMBunting is growing on me, as is Niedecker. Maybe in next month's buy.
Posted by: The New Yorker at September 12, 2006 09:10 PMBunting is growing on me
I'm not sure whether you need to see a doctor or a politician for that.
Posted by: language hat at September 13, 2006 07:09 AMWhen you are reading a line like:
Stones indeed sift to sand, oak
, what d'you do with your voice on that last syllable? I am reading it something like "stonesin-DEED, shiftoo-SAND, OAK---" with my voice falling off abruptly at the end of OAK as if I had been interrupted, then a pause before the next line (which is roughly, "BLENDSwith-SAINTSbones.") Is this how Mr. B (whose name reminds me of "Billy Bunter", a name which my Australian friend Gary uses to mean roughly "Joe Schmo") intends it to be enunciated?
Oh nemmine -- I just noticed your Reelaudio link. I shall listen to it this evening.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid at September 13, 2006 09:43 AMBunting is growing on me
Just don't do it with two strikes on you already. :-)
Posted by: Janet at September 13, 2006 02:34 PMListening to him read, I cannot hear any relation between the line breaks and the movements of his voice. Which seems a little strange to me -- I mean hearing him speak he clearly intends for emphasis and pauses to be in particular locations. So why not reflect that desire in the lineation of the poem? Then other people would be able to read it the way it is intended, without needing to hear it first to do so. Like look:
Boasts time mocks cumber Rome.
Wren set up his own monument.
Others watch fells dwindle,
think the sun's fires sink.
Stones indeed sift to sand,
oak blends with saints' bones.
Yet for a little longer here
stone and oak shelter silence
while we ask nothing but silence.
Look how clouds dance under the wind's wing,
and leaves delight in transience.
Urk -- sorry -- pay the signature on the above post no mind; it was actually me.
Posted by: The Modesto Kid at September 13, 2006 08:59 PMSock puppets not allowed here!
Posted by: John Emerson at September 14, 2006 04:52 PMHear, hear! No sock puppets! Off with his head!
Posted by: The New Yorker at September 14, 2006 04:53 PMWatch it or I'll sic Zizka on you guys.
Posted by: language hat at September 14, 2006 07:03 PMdearieme: i have tried to look for the book you told me to get this poem from but i have failed, do you know where i can get it from.iam actually in Kampala Uganda. thanks.
Will be waiting to hear from you.
Well explained, but i thimk there are quite as many symbols left for me to understand.
Thanx