If you’ve met me….then you’d probably ring up the insane asylum on finding out that I’ve googled for poetry on the Internet. Heck…2 months ago, I’d have checked myself in.
But this babe called Wendy Cope, dude…oooh. I’d have checked her up on Orkut, and mailed her a thinly veiled “How you doing ?” already, if it weren’t for the sidebar which said that she’d published her work in 1945.
Watch out for a post on my renewed interest in the written word. For now, Granny Cope…here’s cheers to you.
I’ve mooched off 3 stanzas…these are from Strugnell’s Rubaiyat. The first one serves as the primer to the rest of the poem.
Awake! for Morning on the Pitch of Night
Has whistled and has put the Stars to Flight.
The incandescent football in the East
Has brought the splendour of Tulse Hill to Light.
The 2nd one’s for everyone in Gokhale, post farewell
Another Pint! Come, loosen up, have Fun!
Fling off your Hang-ups and enjoy the Sun:
Time's Spacecraft all too soon will carry you Away
- and Lo! the Countdown has begun
The 3rd for my favourite road tripping allies…this may seem like familiar ground to us, yes? :)
Here with a Bag of Crisps beneath the Bough,
A Can of Beer, a Radio - and Thou
Beside me half asleep in Brockwell Park
And Brockwell Park is Paradise now.
1 comment:
"Awake! Beloved!", for morning,
In the bowl of the night,
Has thrown the Stone that puts the stars to flight
And Lo! The hunter of the east,
Has caught the sultan's turret in a noose of light.
Was, if I'm not mistaken, the beta version. Ask me not how I know, for the tale is long in the telling.
And yes, yes... thank you very much for the the last two verses. Both very, very applicable, yes.
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