A moment the wild swallows like a flight
Of withered gust-caught leaves, serenely high,
Toss in the windrack up the muttering sky.
The leaves hang still. Above the weird twilight,
The hurrying centres of the storm unite
And spreading with huge trunk and rolling fringe,
Each wheeled upon its own tremendous hinge,
Tower darkening on. And now from heaven's height,
With the long roar of elm-trees swept and swayed,
And pelted waters, on the vanished plain
Plunges the blast. Behind the wild white flash
That splits abroad the pealing thunder-crash,
Over bleared fields and gardens disarrayed,
Column on column comes the drenching rain.
I am glad a Lampman poem has been selected as poem of the day as he was a great poet, up there with the very best in my humble opinion. Try 'April In The Hills' for a breath of Spring.
What a fabulous theme! Absolutely beautiful..............................................10
Although there are moments of release in this poem when the feeling is captured with a wonderful precision the greater part of the poem suffers for the constraints of form. The images are generally good but only in brief bits does the scansion rise to reinforce the feeling of the ensuing storm. It's hard to find fault with the poem but it also fails to achieve the dynamicism required by the subject. Capable, but not transformative.
Here, a simple concept- -a thunderstorm- -but the impressive and majestic sweep of the oncoming storm are released through the power of his wordcraft to draw us into every sensation. Very richly articulated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice description on thunderstorm... Thanks for posting...👍