This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fawn-froth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew,
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
a brilliant descriptive poem of a wild place at the end of lone road in beautiful Scotland? long live the weeds! ............superbly written.
I loved the sound of these words- - unfortunately I do not know the meaning of just about every other word. This is not the author's fault- -it is the fault of time and space. But I want to research this because I truly believe it might be a masterpiece since its words act on me so powerfully and I feel the rhythm beneath the lines and it just CALLS to me. I have a feeling that Hopkins is a great writer and I need to further my education.
hopkins is a favorite poet of mine, mainly for his two great sonnets God's Grandeur and Pied Beauty. this poem proves for me the point that no one writes/creates masterpieces every time. -gk
The last two lines have always impressed me. Such a memorable poem. 4/5
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Long live the weeds.... thanks for posting.....