Saturday 18 June 2016

Poetry Blog No 163 Orpheus

 



"Orpheus Leading Eurydice from the Underworld" by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot



ORPHEUS


 Orpheus surrounded by animals. Ancient Roman floor mosaic, from Palermo

The legend of Orpheus is particularly attractive to those in the arts as all would wish their art had the sort of magical power attributed to his music.

Orpheus was a legendary musician, poet, and prophet in ancient Greek religion and myth. The major stories about him are centred on his ability to charm all living things and even stones with his music, his attempt to retrieve his wife, Eurydice, from the underworld, and his death at the hands of those who could not hear his divine music. As an archetype of the inspired singer, Orpheus is one of the most significant figures in the reception of classical mythology in Western culture, portrayed or alluded to in countless forms of art and popular culture including poetry, film, opera, music, and painting. From Wikipedia

The mysticism attributed to Orpheus was also a powerful influence on Greek life and through that ultimately on European culture.

The Orphics were an ascetic sect; wine, to them, was only a symbol, as, later, in the Christian sacrament. The intoxication that they sought was that of "enthusiasm," of union with the god. They believed themselves, in this way, to acquire mystic knowledge not obtainable by ordinary means. This mystical element entered into Greek philosophy with Pythagoras, who was a reformer of Orphism as Orpheus was a reformer of the religion of Dionysus. From Pythagoras Orphic elements entered into the philosophy of Plato, and from Plato into most later philosophy that was in any degree religious. Bertrand Russell 


 

Orpheus (left, with lyre) among the Thracians, from an Attic red-figure bell-krater




ORPHEUS



There was a singer once they say;

None ever sung as he could sing,

And none could ever, ever play

As he upon each singing string.



The world would hush when hearing him,

All listen in their stillness, even

The winged inhabitants of heaven

Would follow him; wild beasts of prey

Would lie before his feet in peace.

Great, leaf-proud trees would gently sway;

And all would wish him not to cease.



His lyre had but seven strings,

Like seven planets wandering

The deep and starry-sounding sky.

And it was said of him as well

Even the three-faced hound of hell

Was lulled by his soft lullaby.



And in the song that he would sing

Lived deeper truth of everything,

As he would sing of deeper showing

From life to life to grow to light...

And all that's seen by sightless sight,

And all that's heard in silent knowing.



And he would play and he would roam,

And when he sang soft winds would moan,

And all things dreamt of their lost home.



Will ever any sing such song?

For he has gone now- he has gone. 




Orpheus with the lyre and surrounded by beasts (Byzantine & Christian Museum, Athens)


 Orpheus with the lyre and surrounded by beasts (Byzantine & Christian Museum, Athens)

Monday 13 June 2016

Poetry Blog No 162 Apollo


Apollo








Myth and mythical figures are, I believe, more than stories. They can give us imaginative and living experiences of truths. We can imagine ourselves, for example, as a "being" of light- shining the spirit light of our awareness on all around. This piece tries to embody this in simple and direct verse.








APOLLO



Apollo, with his shining sight

And his gold-bright bow,

Rode upon the sun's broad glow

And shot the dragon of dark night

With his dawning shafts of light.



So may that power be in our sight,

So may that power be in our souls-

The power of spirit light.



So may clear seeing

Glow from our being-

As a sun

Into the dark,

Like a sun

Within each heart.


Wednesday 8 June 2016

Poetry Blog No 161 Narrow Roads to Inner Lands Scene 6


Narrow Roads to Inner Lands Scene Six (Bashō and the Chestnut Tree)



Japanese Chestnut Tree

The main speech in this scene about the tree is entirely a creative invention though I feel it embodies an attitude that is found in other statements about reality by Bashō. In the original his statement is an elaboration of the statement that tradition regards it as a holy tree.
The chestnut is a holy tree, for the Chinese ideograph is Tree placed directly below West, the direction of the holy land. The Priest Gyōki is said to have used it for a walking stick and the chief support for his house. Translation Nobuyuki Yuasa. 


 Chestnut Tree blossoms


Unohana flowers are profuse white blossoms of the plant deutzia, varieties of which are found in China and Japan.
The tiny white flowers, deutzia, popularly called unohana, flower in the month of U, the fourth month, as they bloom at the time of rice planting. Yoshiko Dykstra





  Unohana flowers



The Japanese Chestnut Tree, castanea crenata, is an oriental form of the Chestnut Tree somewhat more delicate than its western counterpart though capable of growing to considerable size.







SCENE SIX

On the road. Bright light. Clear day. A stylized chestnut tree in the background. Enter Bashō and Sora walking.

BASHŌ

So after many days of lonely wandering
We've passed the barrier gate at last. Let us
Now rest in cool shade's invitation, here granted
As gift by this wide ancient chestnut tree
For weary guests who wander endless roads.

(Bashō and Sora sit.)

SORA

Yes, it has seemed so many days of long
And solitary, footsore plodding-on
Since leaving Kurobane, that it seems
Indeed an endless road that we are travelling.

BASHŌ

But life, you know, is also so: a wide
And endless road, a journeying that starts
Before the birth of memory and ends
With mystery of passing from this world.

SORA

But why, dear teacher, did you have to leave
Your house and friends and fine success in Edo
To take to the changing danger of the road?

BASHŌ

What is important is to place the mind
Within the world of true, high understanding
And in returning to the everyday
Seek beauty’s truth, thus realizing this-
That all we do and find has bearing on
That primal consciousness which is the core
That we call poetry. Now it may be
Possession of the cosiness of place
Can lull us to a comfort-loving sleep.
And so I felt I had to cast away
My old spot, shedding habit's self to venture
Upon the unpredictability
Of life. At first I clung to memory
Of home, but slowly I am shedding all
The dead attachments to the heavy past -
Much like an old tree losing leaves in autumn.

SORA

Well, passing Shirakawa marks a point
Of deeper penetration towards the north.

BASHŌ

That's true. And going through that gate I found,
In truth, the first of times, since we set out
Some sense of true composure and I thought
Of ageing travellers who burn with strong
Desire to write home to friends. And thus
My mind grew calmer, more detached, resigned
To meet and greet whatever shall arrive.

SORA (rising)

Well, for today the day seems fine and clear.

BASHŌ

And truly, in this presence of the present,
It is most beautiful to walk on here,
By trees thick-laden with their new-grown leaves,
The faint sound of a far wind in our ears,
The summer's vision here before our eyes.

SORA

This chestnut tree is rich with clustered green
And restful shade- a bounty of new leaves.
It calls to mind the road to Shirakawa
Where bountiful, fresh life was shown by all
The bushes of white flowers there spreading in
Their thousands by the wayside till it seemed
The earth was spread with wrongly-seasoned snow.
According to accounts the ancients dressed
In their best clothes to pass the barrier gate;
But I could only decorate my head
With those white blossoms - my only gala clothes.

BASHŌ

You wrote, if I recall, a verse on this.

SORA


Yes, master Bashō, that is so. I wrote-

White unohana
Flowers in my hair- dressed for
Passing’s ancient rite.

BASHŌ


And so we pushed on further towards the north.

SORA


Yes, then we crossed the Abukuma River-
Mount Aizu on the left and to the right
Iwaki, Soma and Miharu villages.

BASHŌ


Then on we went, on past the Mirror Pond,
Which on our visit only showed grey sky,
Until we came to Sukagawa where
We stayed with Tōkyu making verse and now
In all the flowering of fields and plains
This single chestnut tree's a sanctuary
Of peaceful rustling and of shadowed coolness.


SORA


And so it is - a welcome shade- this tree.

(Sora sits down.)

BASHŌ


Tradition holds it is a holy tree.

(Bashō rises)

Yet every tree that rises from good earth
Is sacred in the silence of true seeing.
For here there is the many-seasoned trunk
Supporting all, the very growth of patience;
Beneath’s the hold of roots that drinks from darkness.
Above the branchings reach out towards sun's light.
In spring, from buds upon bare-wintered twigs,
Burst forth fresh leaves of longer days. The tree,
Between the earth and sky, in-weaves their powers
In long-enduring, life-renewing strength.
A single tree shares in all earth and draws
From sun and all the weathers of the sky -
From soil, from rain, from air, from warmth, from light.
And even lives in shifting moon and stars.
It speaks of streaming life that reaches out
Into the vision of the heavens' vastness.
              Like many miracles of every day,
              The tree in truth is barely seen. We do
              Not truly pause to see the greater real;
So busy are we with each day's small purpose,
We never stop and stand and really see.

Bashō sits, takes out writing materials; he pauses, then writes.)

Ah, the chestnut grows
In its magnificence - yet
Seen by almost none.

(They pause.)

BASHŌ

But we must rise. Our footsteps cannot cease,
But needs must carry us along the roads
From Sukagawa ever further onward
To Rapid's Head and Iizuka town.
We must keep onward, northward-bound.

(Bashō and Sora rise and exit. Lights fade.)