Fire in the heavens, and fire along the hills,
and fire made solid in the flinty stone,
thick-mass'd or scatter'd pebble, fire that fills
the breathless hour that lives in fire alone.
This valley, long ago the patient bed
of floods that carv'd its antient amplitude,
in stillness of the Egyptian crypt outspread,
endures to drown in noon-day's tyrant mood.
Behind the veil of burning silence bound,
vast life's innumerous busy littleness
is hush'd in vague-conjectured blur of sound
that dulls the brain with slumbrous weight, unless
some dazzling puncture let the stridence throng
in the cicada's torture-point of song.
Classic sonnet pattern. Sorry, but I read this poem three times and still couldn't really understand it. I think the twelfth line caught me and dulled my brain with slumberous weight. Maybe it really deserves the 5.7 rating given by the 31 voters so far.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
This is a difficult one- -The Fall of the Garden of Eden, a valley that is a metaphor for life, the gathering of writing scraps into one place? At any rate, I found power in the first stanza