Readers, friends, and lovers alike, I bid you welcome. If your head is still spinning from our last edition when we read the beautiful writings of Chaucer, rest easy because this week is an easy one. However, the top comment on the Chaucer poem comes from one of our fantastic at teachers at NASH, Mrs. Morris:

“I am so glad you chose something we feel we have little connection to since it’s SO old and SO different. Listening to the voices of the past help us understand our own. I also loved trying to recite it in Middle English (nyghtes blake is pronounced nichtahs blahkah, for example). Ask me to recite some more for you in class someday.”

Thank you so much for your insight and opinion! I encourage you to continue posting comments on each weekly edition of this column and you just might end up in next week’s article! Each edition will include two poems, the first being a featured piece written by a famous poet that will be analyzed and interpreted according to my point of view. Of course, everyone’s interpretation is different and valid, and the comment section will be open for any further discussion. The second piece is written by yours truly and will be open to complete interpretation and analysis. Go forth, enjoy, and as you read, remember: “It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see.” – Henry David Thoreau

Poem One: Serenade by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

The western wind is blowing fair

Across the dark AEgean sea,

And at the secret marble stair

My Tyrian galley waits for thee.

Come down! the purple sail is spread,

The watchman sleeps within the town,

O leave thy lily-flowered bed,

O Lady mine come down, come down!

She will not come, I know her well,

Of lover’s vows she hath no care,

And little good a man can tell

Of one so cruel and so fair.

True love is but a woman’s toy,

They never know the lover’s pain,

And I who loved as loves a boy

Must love in vain, must love in vain.

O noble pilot, tell me true,

Is that the sheen of golden hair?

Or is it but the tangled dew

That binds the passion-flowers there?

Good sailor come and tell me now

Is that my Lady’s lily hand?

Or is it but the gleaming prow,

Or is it but the silver sand?

No! no! ’tis not the tangled dew,

‘Tis not the silver-fretted sand,

It is my own dear Lady true

With golden hair and lily hand!

O noble pilot, steer for Troy,

Good sailor, ply the labouring oar,

This is the Queen of life and joy

Whom we must bear from Grecian shore!

The waning sky grows faint and blue,

It wants an hour still of day,

Aboard! aboard! my gallant crew,

O Lady mine, away! away!

O noble pilot, steer for Troy,

Good sailor, ply the labouring oar,

O loved as only loves a boy!

O loved for ever evermore!

Thoughts: To begin, I would just like to admire the fact that our poet this week is truly a stunningly handsome gentleman. With such great looks comes the lust and pain of romance, which this poem exemplifies perfectly. One of my favorite poems of all time, Wilde’s serenade speaks of a tormented love in which the speaker is infatuated with a woman who he desperately attempts to make her love him better. She has his heart but is so cruel and rough with it. Wilde wrote this poem as a lyrical piece that should be sung with music as if the speaker is quite literally standing outside his lover’s window trying to convince her to “come down” and be with him, love him, see the world with him. Alas, it seems she will only love him “as a boy”, meaning their love is immature, childish, and dispassionate. A truly emotional and passionate poem of a love that our speaker just cannot attain.

Poem Two: Eyes by D.C.

A misty, gray sky

And fields of raindrops.

Somber trees sway left

In response to thoughts.

The meaning is clear.

A woman lowers her shields,

Awaiting the man’s response.

His heart and mind wax and wane.

The ache of decision screams.

A window candle burns dim.

A child’s blooming eyes darken.

Her unprotected heart weeps.

The swallow’s wings fail,

The man’s heart changes.

His eyes see a friend

While hers see a love.

Love never shines clear.

-D.C.

Will you serenade your lady to the tune of Wilde’s poem? What did you think of my poem? Please let me know in the comments below and you might be in next week’s issue!