Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Blue Symphony

John Gould Fletcher

THE DARKNESS rolls upward.

The thick darkness carries with it

Rain and a ravel of cloud.

The sun comes forth upon earth.

Palely the dawn

Leaves me facing timidly

Old gardens sunken:

And in the gardens is water.

Sombre wreck-autumnal leaves;

Shadowy roofs

In the blue mist,

And a willow-branch that is broken.

O old pagodas of my soul, how you glittered across green trees!

Blue and cool:

Blue, tremulously,

Blow faint puffs of smoke

Across sombre pools.

The damp green smell of rotted wood;

And a heron that cries from out the water.

Through the upland meadows

I go alone.

For I dreamed of someone last night

Who is waiting for me.

Flower and blossom, tell me do you know of her?

Have the rocks hidden her voice?

They are very blue and still.

Long upward road that is leading me,

Light hearted I quit you,

For the long loose ripples of the meadow-grass

Invite me to dance upon them.

Quivering grass,

Daintily poised

For her foot’s tripping.

O blown clouds, could I only race up like you!

Oh the last slopes that are sun-drenched and steep!

Look, the sky!

Across black valleys

Rise blue-white aloft

Jagged unwrinkled mountains, ranges of death.

Solitude. Silence.

One chuckles by the brook for me:

One rages under the stone.

One makes a spout of his mouth,

One whispers—one is gone.

One over there on the water

Spreads cold ripples

For me

Enticingly.

The vast dark trees

Flow like blue veils

Of tears

Into the water.

Sour sprites,

Moaning and chuckling,

What have you hidden from me?

“In the palace of the blue stone she lies forever

Bound hand and foot.”

Was it the wind

That rattled the reeds together?

Dry reeds,

A faint shiver in the grasses.

On the left hand there is a temple:

And a palace on the right-hand side.

Foot-passengers in scarlet

Pass over the glittering tide.

Under the bridge

The old river flows

Low and monotonous

Day after day.

I have heard and have seen

All the news that has been:

Autumn’s gold and Spring’s green!

Now in my palace

I see foot-passengers

Crossing the river,

Pilgrims of autumn

In the afternoons.

Lotus pools;

Petals in the water:

Such are my dreams.

For me silks are outspread.

I take my ease, unthinking.

And now the lowest pine-branch

Is drawn across the disk of the sun.

Old friends who will forget me soon,

I must go on

Towards those blue death mountains

I have forgot so long.

In the marsh grasses

There lies forever

My last treasure,

With the hope of my heart.

The ice is glazing over;

Torn lanterns flutter,

On the leaves is snow.

In the frosty evening

Toll the old bell for me

Once, in the sleepy temple.

Perhaps my soul will hear.

Afterglow:

Before the stars peep

I shall creep into the darkness.