Dearest Evelyn, I often think of you
Out with the guns in the jungle stew
Yesterday I hittapotamus
I put the measurements down for you but they got lost in the fuss
It's not a good thing to drink out here
You know, I've practically given it up dear.
Tomorrow I am going alone a long way
Into the jungle. It is all grey
But green on top
Only sometimes when a tree has fallen
The sun comes down plop, it is quite appalling.
You never want to go in a jungle pool
In the hot sun, it would be the act of a fool
Because it's always full of anacondas, Evelyn, not looking ill-fed
I'll say. So no more now, from your loving husband Wilfred.
An interesting poem on which to ponder the views of the husband.
stiff upper lip described beautifully with more than a hint of matrimonial apathy. I love this poem it is redolent of Victorian attitudes. It speaks of bewilderment yet of undeserved superiority. I could write a thousand words to start describing what stevie smith achieved in a hundred
I really like this poem. The first time I saw it was in an anthology of poetry selected by Griselda Greaves called The Burning Thorn, a most excellent book which I have treasured for many many years. My students also have loved this book and have practically worn the cover off of it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The presence of the enormous jungle is what comes across to me. Surely here we find a wonderful restatement of some of The Heart of Darkness - The horror! The horror!