74. Poem in October by Dylan Thomas - A Friend to Alex
In this episode of our podcast, Alex Pritchard-Jones talks about the poem that has been a friend to him: Poem in October by Dylan Thomas.Alex spoke with us online during a day of Exchanges at the Birmingham and Midland Institute. He is in conversation with Fiona Bennett and Roy McFarlane.Poem in October is read by Roy McFarlane.*********Poem In Octoberby Dylan ThomasIt was my thirtieth year to heavenWoke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron Priested shore The morning beckonWith water praying and call of seagull and rookAnd the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall Myself to set foot That secondIn the still sleeping town and set forth.My birthday began with the water-Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name Above the farms and the white horses And I rose In rainy autumnAnd walked abroad in a shower of all my days.High tide and the heron dived when I took the road Over the border And the gatesOf the town closed as the town awoke.A springful of larks in a rollingCloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling Blackbirds and the sun of October Summery On the hill's shoulder,Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenlyCome in the morning where I wandered and listened To the rain wringing Wind blow coldIn the wood faraway under me.Pale rain over the dwindling harbourAnd over the sea wet church the size of a snail With its horns through mist and the castle Brown as owls But all the gardensOf spring and summer were blooming in the tall talesBeyond the border and under the lark full cloud. There could I marvel My birthdayAway but the weather turned around.It turned away from the blithe countryAnd down the other air and the blue altered sky Streamed again a wonder of summer With apples Pears and red currantsAnd I saw in the turning so clearly a child'sForgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Through the parables Of sun lightAnd the legends of the green chapelsAnd the twice told fields of infancyThat his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine. These were the woods the river and sea Where a boy In the listeningSummertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joyTo the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide. And the mystery Sang aliveStill in the water and singingbirds.And there could I marvel my birthdayAway but the weather turned around. And the true Joy of the long dead child sang burning In the sun. It was my thirtiethYear to heaven stood there then in the summer noonThough the town below lay leaved with October blood. O may my heart's truth Still be sungOn this high hill in a year's turning. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.