The Messenger Poem by Howard Phillips Lovecraft
The Messenger
The thing, he said, would come in the night at three
From the old churchyard on the hill below;
But crouching by an oak fire's wholesome glow,
I tried to tell myself it could not be.
Surely, I mused, it was pleasantry
Devised by one who did not truly know
The Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,
That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.
He had not meant it - no - but still I lit
Another lamp as starry Leo climbed
Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
Three - and the firelight faded, bit by bit.
Then at the door that cautious rattling came -
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
There are probably a number of ways this poem could be taken- -but I am in the mood for a straight forward lovable tale about soul-sucking monsters stirring in the dark... yummy Stephen King/Edgar Allen Poe kind of poetry or plot
This is a poignant write rocking between faith and doubt and mesmerized by the ultimate truth!
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame! - this is a genius poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/14/2024 1:14:11 PM # 1.0.0
This is the right display for the lovecraftian sonnet form, indeed: Three quatrains (in this case all quatrains are ABBA rhymed; and its variants CDDC and EFFE) and one couplet. It corresponds to the shakespearian sonnet form. Just too bad that you have not restored that structure to the 36 sonnets in Fungi from Yuggoth.