What ever it was, Dale, I’m terribly sorry and hope that things will be better soon.
With sincere condolences,
Tyg
Aye. What Tyghress said.
Be well, dude.
–James
So. Help me understand? You guys experience that poem as sad?
Dale
I think I see a hint of resigned acceptance.
The poem has a very melancholy feel to me.
It’s a powerful verse; it evokes strong imagery, particularly of cold and sleep. It references death without directly naming it–the cold sleep in the clay, never to see the light–that seems clearly to be a death reference to me.
So, yeah: I’d say I read it as being a somewhat sad poem. Sad, resigned. Mourning for something not completely lost but which can no longer be saved.
–James
“tired” “cold” “sleep”
“abandoned” “wait” “clay” “never see the light”
Yes, I see all these phrases as melancholy. Most of them are common metaphors for death. I don’t think this is one of Bly’s best (by a long shot!) as it seems to be very wooden and inelegant in its melancholy. As if perhaps it was written in the throes of real sorrow/depression without the effort made to couch the emotion in any second layer of reality.
I feel the juxtaposition of cold rain in May and sleep to be jarring, but not to the point of caring about the why. The abandoned well and its water is an effective mental image, but taking the whole two verse poem, death probably at a young age, and a profound sense of loss.
So, how do you interpret it?
Well, I don’t really interpret it. I see what you mean. But I find it more meditative than sad. Anway, thanks. I’m fine!!
Dale
I don’t like poems about rain much anymore, whether it’s literal rain or figurative rain. There are lots and lots of them out there, though…
“A cold sleep”? In May?
Without trying to paraphrase the meaning in ordinary language, I find the poem’s most important line–that is, the one that conveys “meaning” most clearly to me–is this:
Water that will wait and wait
In the clay…
That it doesn’t stop waiting seems the key to me.
Carol
After several readings over several hours, I am getting there as well.
Patience is everything. We wait and wait, we hope that our patience will be fruitful and reward us for the time we have spent waiting.
The water will lie in the clay for years as our hopes and beliefs lie in our heart for years, hoping and praying for resolution.
There are so many things in our lives that we have no control over so we hope for change, we hope that other people/situations/ circumstances will change and in their wake bring about the change that we so deeply desire.
The line that Carol quoted brought to mind the great line of Sun-Tzu.. the one about waiting by the river and watching the bodies of your enemies float by..the exact words of which escape me at
the moment 
So to my way of thinking..the short verse is about the power of patience and the strength it brings. I find it very inspirational and not a bit ..sad.
Slan,
D.
D., your analysis would work for me-- and the poem would be an entirely different poem, I think–if it ended with “in the clay”.
But it doesn’t: the poet added “…and never see the light”.
Because of that, I’m inclined to agree with Tyghress’ reading of the poet’s intent… though I find your sense of life far preferable to the poem’s gloomy one.
Mmm..
Very interesting point Scottie..very perceptive.
I would argue though that not being able to see the light does not mean that there is no light to see.
“They say that the darkest hour, is just before the dawn”
Bob Dylan..(and many others)
I am not saying, or trying to outguess the intent of the Poet but to me it is a study in patience…and waiting.
Or, if you like, Faith.
Slan,
D.
Or else a belief that there is light to see, whether there is or not.
Carol
I hope you don’t mind me doing this, but Dale’s poem with the ensuing discussion made me think of this poem by Pat Mora. Its sort of a continuation or maybe the anthesis, not sure which:
Small white fairies dance
on the Rio Grande . Usually they swim
Deep through their days and nights
hiding from our eyes, but when the white
sun pulls them up, up
they leap about, tiny shimmering stars.
The desert says: feel the sun
luring you from your dark, sad waters,
burst through the surface
dance
Indeed.
Without getting too metaphysical here - and I’m not even sure what that means but it sounds good - I believe that there is always a light.
That’s why I mentioned Faith. Not in any religious sense but in an optimistic, it’ll be O.K in the end kinda sense.
I’ve been down a few deep wells in my time but always believed that I would find a way out sooner or later. That, I would call belief. So far it has worked for me which is where the patience comes in.
Hope that makes sense…
Slan,
D.
I’m glad this poem has generated some smart discussion. I really like Robert Bly’s work.
This is my favorite:
Things to Think
Think in ways you’ve never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you’ve ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he’s carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you’ve never seen.
When someone knocks on the door, think that he’s about
To give you something large: tell you you’re forgiven,
Or that it’s not necessary to work all the time, or that it’s
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.
Lovely; thank you for posting that.
“To give you something large: tell you you’re forgiven… or that it’s
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.”
Wonderful.
I’ve been looking for a poem by Captain Bligh to post, but I can’t seem to find anything. Guess I’ll have to write one myself.
Does anything rhyme with Bounty besides county and mounty?