Posts Tagged ‘Robert Frost’

This is my reading of Fireflies in the Garden-Robert Frost

My version

Fireflies flitting in the musk- laden nightfall
Are as curious as cats with the garbage pail,-
Crystalline luster of their gaze sees through all
While winged fairies will seek here as there
How magic lantern of starry beams do filter,
And join the earth in her bewitching hour.

Original by Robert Frost

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can’t sustain the part.


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Stopping By woods On A Snowy Evening

My Version
Riding Into the Wind ©

Riding into the wind while home
Thoughts lift the heart as of old, as foam
Caresses the hull to strange airiness,-
I know I have taken passage home.
I have been through rough straits and swells
Before, and counted a man under his own sails
May find home under starlit heaven
Dry or drench’d and still laugh at gales.
What lies beyond horizon has its rule:
Standing watch and hard by the wheel
The moss bitten cottage back on the leeward
Must wear out as stones under blows crumble.
Each day the wind , rude seas take their toll:
The bark is frail but must this charge fulfill,
Riding into the wind my hand by the wheel
Guide me to whatever left of hearth by the hill.

Stopping By woods On A Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

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My version:
Desire and Love

Desire is bound as free an idea love is,
As free to go as the earth anywhere as wind;
But bound as she is to solid earth there is
Desire shaped something solid
And always dreading the void;
It’s at loss for abstractions, of love for its sake:
The roiling mad sea to its depths would shake-
Love must be what runs it, lo and behold
Through very pulse of low and high tide.
(Love winks in the waning of the moon
And leaves the sea to tumultuous distraction.)
Desire the oil when dropt calms the sea
Though it has lost the hold, the rede.

Bond and Free

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about–
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turn, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.

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The book was not bound in dust cover;
And there was in it dog-eared appreciation
Of nameless eyes that with zest did devour.
I scanned the volume from cover to cover
Yet the thought was left in mint condition;


Then took the other leather bound in gold
Within were pages, abstract passages of cant
Being sorry no space for both was in the hold
I chose the bromides the wisdom of men of old
That the world in general love descant.

In vellum and leather bound was wisdom
That suits man in statecraft and cloth well;
Such ideas and deeds that rang man’s freedom
I could perceive was what it lacked : wisdom
Of cant howev’r stood me exceedingly well.

At graves mouth men have sighed before
I wonder what might have had I picked
The book of plain prose instead of the other.
The beguiling cant needs be in gilt and thunder
Served and my red and benefice to it owed.

This is a take off on Robert Frost’s
The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.

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I Call the Night ©

I call the night my brother at arms

And swarm of stars that rise above, his hive:

We taste the sweeten’d air as brothers at arms.


I shall follow my own dithering way, if you will

And you follow closely at heels cheerily

I know as equal you keep the pace still.


I have been hooted at by owls from cover

You merely smile ev’n as ground squirrels

Speed along their fail-safe passage for cover.


If I choose not to speak of this and that-

Words shall go past your head by a mile

And I need not vex this bond of silence by chat.


Acquainted as I am with your silence suits me

Than you with insomnia that stalks me.

benny-(posted in Pup of my doggerels-14 Jan)

The original poem by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain — and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

O luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

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On Reading Fire and Ice

More than fire and Ice,-
It would be nice
If the world just rocked
And brought all the cracks
In the pavement filled,
And my stubbed toe
Slipped in my shoe easily.

The original is given below
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if I had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say thay for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

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