To the War Poets - John Greening - E-Book

To the War Poets E-Book

John Greening

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Beschreibung

In To the War Poets John Greening sends dispatches across the decades. In a sequence of verse letters he addresses the poets of the First World War directly, making connections yet always aware of distance: 'No larks, / just the passing of traffic.' Greening 'explores Englishness', but also, in his translations from German poets, goes beyond it. From the discovery of the Sutton Hoo burial in 1939 to the security forces' shut-down of Heathrow airport in 2006, the presence or threat of conflict underlies Greening's precise, unsentimental writing.

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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

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JOHN GREENING

To the War Poets

To Jürgen Sandmann

Acknowledgements

Thanks are due to the editors of the following publications, in which poems in this book have appeared: Agenda (‘Dropping Slow’, ‘Eglwys Llangwyfan’, ‘Hiraeth’); Areté (‘To Rudyard Kipling’); Bow-Wow Shop (‘Africa’, ‘The Island’, ‘In Trafalgar Square’, ‘So it Runs’, ‘Wadi Halfa’); Brindin Press website (translations of German poets); Critical Quarterly (‘Aldermaston’, ‘Odyssey’); Horizon Review (‘Cycle with Cytologist’, ‘Hounslow’, ‘The Train’); Ink, Sweat & Tears (‘Forge House’); The Interpreter’s House (‘Waldo Williams in Perry’); London Magazine (‘Causeway’); Modern Poetry in Translation (poems by Ernst Stadler, ‘To the Sun (after Akhenaten)’); Poetry Review (‘To Edward Thomas’, ‘Field’, ‘American Music’); Quadrant (‘Colonial’, ‘Elgar’, ‘The Hope Valley Line’); The Rialto (‘Reading John Clare’); Seam (‘Middlesex’, ‘Piano’); The Spectator (‘To John McCrae’); Stand (‘To Laurence Binyon’, ‘To Julian Grenfell’); The Times Literary Supplement (‘To Isaac Rosenberg’, ‘11’, ‘Kentish’); The Use of English (‘Yeats Dances’, ‘To Rupert Brooke’).

‘New World’ featured in the programme for the Czech Philharmonic’s concert at Symphony Hall, Birmingham and on the hall’s website, for which I am grateful to Julie Boden. The Edmund Blunden verse letter appeared in the Blunden Online journal: thanks to Margi Blunden. ‘Reading John Clare’ was a contribution to the Festschrift for John Lucas, Speaking English. ‘The Hope Valley Line’ was included in The Quadrant Book of Poetry (ed. Les Murray). ‘Awre’ was used to preface Michael Greening’s book A Family Story. I am grateful to Martin Carver for letting me take as an epigraph to ‘The Mounds at Sutton Hoo’ a quotation from his invaluable book Sutton Hoo, Burial Ground of Kings?

I owe a particular debt to my colleague Bill Skinner for organising the battlefields trip during which many of the verse letters were drafted. ‘To One Who Was With Me’ is dedicated to Helen Morrell, who was at the St Julien memorial with us when she received news of the death of her friend Dermot Sheridan in a helicopter crash.

Contents

Title PageDedicationAcknowledgementsEpigraphWar (Georg Heym)On the Eastern Front (Georg Trakl)Pleasure in Form (Ernst Stadler)In Despair (August Stramm)To August Stramm, Georg Trakl, Ernst Stadler, Georg Heym (Langemark) The TrainTo Isaac Rosenberg (Dover)The Island A to ZTo Wilfrid Gibson (The Menin Gate)The Hope Valley Line11To John McCrae Gibson (The Menin Gate) To Robert Nichols (France)Feast Day, MelchbourneTo Edmund Blunden (Ypres)Reading John Clare on New Year’s EveCausewayTo Laurence Binyon (Sanctuary Wood)So it RunsIn Trafalgar SquareTo Siegfried Sassoon (Near Bapaume)Yeats DancesDropping SlowOdysseyTo the Sun (After Akhenaten)To Rupert Brooke (Grantchester)Wadi HalfaColonialTo Rudyard Kipling (Tyne Cot)AfricaTo Julian Grenfell (Sanctuary Wood)HounslowHeath RowCycle, with CytologistMiddlesexTo One Who Was With Me (St Julien)To Edward Thomas (Agny)HiraethEglwys LlangwyfanHome OfficeTo Vera Brittain (Louvencourt)PianoMusic GroupElgarNew World (1937)American MusicFieldThe Mounds at Sutton HooWaldo Williams in PerryAldermastonSummer (Ernst Stadler)Bugles (Georg Trakl)To Charles Sorley (Dunkerque)To Robert Graves (Dover)Grodek (Georg Trakl)Forge HouseKentishAwreNote on Akhenaten’s Hymn to the SunAbout the AuthorCopyright

Shall they return to beatings of great bells

In wild train-loads?

Wilfred Owen

War

Georg Heym (1887–1912)

He’s risen now, who slept so long,

He’s risen from deep vaults, among

The day’s remains. Huge and unknown

He stands. His black hands crush the moon.

Into the cities’ evening crack

A shadow-frost falls, alien dark.

It makes the downtown bustle freeze.

Go quiet. Glance round. No one sees.

In side-streets, something grasps an arm.

A question. Answerless. Stay calm.

Far off, the bells are trembling thin

And stubble stirs on each sharp chin.

He’s started. There, up on the fells

He’s dancing, shouting: Men! To kill!

And when he shakes his dark head, chains

Of skulls go rattling round his brain.

A moving tower, he tramples out

The last of light. The river clots

As countless bodies staunch and dam

Its reedy flow. The white birds swarm.

He steeplechases through the night

This red wild-shrieking hound, and out

Of darkness spring night’s secret shows,

Footlit as if by lava flows.