CranachBut once upon a time
the oakleaves and the wild boars
Antonio Antonio
the old wound is bleeding.
We are in Silvertown
we have come here with a modest ambition
to know a little bit about the river
eating cheese and pickled onions on a terrace by the
Thames.
Sweet Thames! the ferry glides across your bosom
like Leda's swan.
The factories ah slender graces
sly naked damsels nodding their downy plumes.
~HERBERT READ, b. 1893
1 comment:
I'm just learning this poem.
It's one of those very early poems that, long ago, I found in one of my parents' books. It haunted me back then, as a child, before I knew that I loved poetry. I don't know what it means, or how it relates to Cranach (presumably Lucas Cranach, the painter) or how the first verse ties in with the London of the last two stanzas, but that first stanza conjured-up something in me back then that I still feel now - a sense of some nobility of classical tragedy.
Does anyone have any insights into this poem?
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