Kata-kata Mutiara Cinta dan Motivasi: The Wondering Minstrels: Prologue -- Dylan Thomas

(Poem #14) Prologue

This day winding down nowAt God speeded summer's endIn the torrent salmon sun,In my seashaken houseOn a breakneck of rocksTangled with chirrup and fruit,Froth, flute, fin, and quillAt a wood's dancing hoof,By scummed, starfish sandsWith their fishwife crossGulls, pipers, cockles, and snails,Out there, crow black, menTackled with clouds, who kneelTo the sunset nets,Geese nearly in heaven, boysStabbing, and herons, and shellsThat speak seven seas,Eternal waters awayFrom the cities of nineDays' night whose towers will catchIn the religious windLike stalks of tall, dry straw,At poor peace I singTo you strangers (though songIs a burning and crested act,The fire of birds inThe world's turning wood,For my swan, splay sounds),Out of these seathumbed leavesThat will fly and fallLike leaves of trees and as soonCrumble and undieInto the dogdayed night.Seaward the salmon, sucked sun slips,And the dumb swans drub blueMy dabbed bay's dusk, as I hackThis rumpus of shapesFor you to knowHow I, a spining man,Glory also this star, birdRoared, sea born, man torn, blood blest.Hark: I trumpet the place,From fish to jumping hill! Look:I build my bellowing arkTo the best of my loveAs the flood begins,Out of the fountainheadOf fear, rage read, manalive,Molten and mountainous to streamOver the wound asleepSheep white hollow farmsTo Wales in my arms.Hoo, there, in castle keep,You king singsong owls, who moonbeamThe flickering runs and diveThe dingle furred deer dead!Huloo, on plumbed bryns,O my ruffled ring dovein the hooting, nearly darkWith Welsh and reverent rook,Coo rooning the woods' praise,who moons her blue notes from her nestDown to the curlew herd!Ho, hullaballoing clanAgape, with woeIn your beaks, on the gabbing capes!Heigh, on horseback hill, jackWhisking hare! whoHears, there, this fox light, my flood ship'sClangour as I hew and smite(A clash of anvils for myHubbub and fiddle, this tuneOn a toungued puffball)But animals thick as theivesOn God's rough tumbling grounds(Hail to His beasthood!).Beasts who sleep good and thin,Hist, in hogback woods! The haystackedHollow farms in a throngOf waters cluck and cling,And barnroofs cockcrow war!O kingdom of neighbors finnedFelled and quilled, flash to my patchWork ark and the moonshineDrinking Noah of the bay,With pelt, and scale, and fleece:Only the drowned deep bellsOf sheep and churches noisePoor peace as the sun setsAnd dark shoals every holy field.We will ride out alone then,Under the stars of Wales,Cry, multitudes of arks! AcrossThe water lidded lands,Manned with their loves they'll moveLike wooden islands, hill to hill.Hulloo, my prowed dove with a flute!Ahoy, old, sea-legged fox,Tom tit and Dai mouse!My ark sings in the sunAt God speeded summer's endAnd the flood flowers now.

-- Dylan Thomas

This was Thomas' own prologue to his 'Collected Poems' (1952).Dylan Thomas was in love with words. He loved their sound and theirtexture, and his poems, though often dense and impenetrable in content,were never anything less than beautiful in their intricate soundscapes.He has often been accused of deliberate obscurity, due to his techniqueof using words more for their connotations and rhythmic/melodicproperties than for their 'meanings'; nevertheless, he remains one ofthe most popular poets of this century.I don't think I've ever read a better poetic description of thecountryside than that in 'Prologue'. Thomas had a keen awareness of hisrole as a modern-day bard; indeed, many of his poems resound with thequality of 'hwyl', a style of high-flown rhetoric much used intraditional Celtic ballads and epics. 'Prologue' displays this qualityin buckets, and underlying it all is Thomas' deep and abiding love forhis Wales."One: I am a Welshman;Two: I am a drunkard;Three: I am a lover of the human race, especially of women."    - Dylan ThomasBiographical Note:Dylan Marlais Thomas was born in the Welsh seaport of Swansea on October27, 1914. One of the best-known British poets of the mid-20th century,he is remembered for his highly original, obscure poems, his amusingprose tales and plays, and his turbulent, well-publicized personal life.His most popular works include the radio play "Under Milk Wood"(posthumously published, 1954) and the sketch "A Child's Christmas inWales" (1955), but his more ambitious work consists of the complex poemsin which he expressed a deeply romantic vision.Beginning in 1949, Thomas visited the United States several times,touring college campuses to read his poetry. Widely known for hispowerful poetry readings over BBC radio, he became a popular, ifcontroversial, figure. He died at the age of 39 on November 9, 1953 inNew York City after a period of depression and heavy drinking.thomas.