The Blue Skied Books Of Andrew Lang Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
The Blue Skied Books Of Andrew Lang
the blue skied books of andrew lang
I longed for as the colour of rain
if rain were the colour of violets.
I lost my way in the bookshop
taking the wrong turn
but I'm still learning
the ballades of blue china: blue, bluer, bluest
blest the book of poetry or is it the book
of chimes, the book of bluebirds
before your lily eyes
will they fly out of it with a tissue
frontpiece covering the stars the stars
Andrew Lang, where are you?
are you near the lint covered sapphires
of the years you left behind a long
time ago as your stories
may begin so may you, again
since they're made of may times, many times
if I surmise, correctly; where did
they put the twilights the last
time I was in here
if I am permitted to say, to tell you
that, in this present age
we need your blue kingdoms
illustrated, and with clouds
and sighs and mystically
alive in the extreme, they seem,
even for books of this caliber...
the bookman says.
mary angela douglas 20 december 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 4:10:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Do you know of any poem by Andrew Lang with this title. It begins...Tears for my lady dead - Heliodore. I have a handwritten poem of that title, attributed to Andrew Land, and dated December 15 1895? ? ? ?
I had not heard of this poem though I know Andrew Lang was a poet himself and also wrote other books as well as being a collector of world folk and fairy tales. I looked it up on Bartleby.com which also gave the name of the anthology it appears in. I couldnt' tell if it was also published in a book of Andrew Lang's poems.Here's the way Bartleby.com shared the poem: I don't know if this is the entire poem or not though it does sound finished. Very lovely. Glad to know of its existence. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908) . A Victorian Anthology,1837–1895. 1895. Paraphrases. III. Heliodore Dead Andrew Lang (1844–1912) Meleager TEARS for my lady dead, Heliodore! Salt tears and ill to shed Over and o’er. Tears for my lady dead, 5 Sighs do we send, Long love rememberéd, Mistress and friend. Sad are the songs we sing, Tears that we shed, 10 Empty the gifts we bring, Gifts to the dead. Go tears, and go lament! Fare from her tomb, Wend where my lady went, 15 Down through the gloom. Ah, for my flower, my love, Hades hath taken! Ah for the dust above, Scattered and shaken! 20 Mother of all things born, Earth, in thy breast Lull her that all men mourn, Gently to rest!