02-14-2017, 12:02 PM
No matter that a shrill, chill blast
blew dark and hidden through bald crowns,
for through the pricking sleet and snow
a jigging, jolly rhythm flowed.
A distant dance of flickering flame,
glimpsed through steamed up window panes;
comfort in the wintering town,
warm ale, warm friends, at last…. This line breaks the rhythm of the piece. I feel it could be removed and used at the end instead.
No matter that the house is full
so fiddler's elbows stab and prod.
While feet stamp out the bodran beat,
old men squeeze tight to clear a seat.
Then down on to the throbbing throne <-- I’m not quite sure what’s happening here…>
the frozen flop and with a groan
of heart-felt thanks, a smile, a nod,
and wide-spread wave, they wait their pull.
No matter that the air is baking,
breathed ten times before your taking;
No matter that the raised refrain
makes hearing jar and speaking strain;
No matter that the fiddles fly
and nudge and spill ale struggling by;
No matter that it all goes round
and round and round and round and round.
Here we are in steaming heat
singing loudly, stamping feet,
doleful humming through the sad,
cheering all things good and bad.
No matter, we are here and living,
full of music, song, and giving.
The fiddlers play, some tears are shed,
no matter, we will smile in bed.
What a fun rollicking jig. It’s vivid, and easy to imagine the scene. (except for the throne, frozen flop, and pull, which went over my head). You lost the rhythm in some lines near the end, and there is a bit of confusion-- is it baking heat, or, further down, steaming? I also think your last line takes me out of the action too abruptly and could be better.
All in all I enjoyed reading, and thinking about this. Well done, thank you.
blew dark and hidden through bald crowns,
for through the pricking sleet and snow
a jigging, jolly rhythm flowed.
A distant dance of flickering flame,
glimpsed through steamed up window panes;
comfort in the wintering town,
warm ale, warm friends, at last…. This line breaks the rhythm of the piece. I feel it could be removed and used at the end instead.
No matter that the house is full
so fiddler's elbows stab and prod.
While feet stamp out the bodran beat,
old men squeeze tight to clear a seat.
Then down on to the throbbing throne <-- I’m not quite sure what’s happening here…>
the frozen flop and with a groan
of heart-felt thanks, a smile, a nod,
and wide-spread wave, they wait their pull.
No matter that the air is baking,
breathed ten times before your taking;
No matter that the raised refrain
makes hearing jar and speaking strain;
No matter that the fiddles fly
and nudge and spill ale struggling by;
No matter that it all goes round
and round and round and round and round.
Here we are in steaming heat
singing loudly, stamping feet,
doleful humming through the sad,
cheering all things good and bad.
No matter, we are here and living,
full of music, song, and giving.
The fiddlers play, some tears are shed,
no matter, we will smile in bed.
What a fun rollicking jig. It’s vivid, and easy to imagine the scene. (except for the throne, frozen flop, and pull, which went over my head). You lost the rhythm in some lines near the end, and there is a bit of confusion-- is it baking heat, or, further down, steaming? I also think your last line takes me out of the action too abruptly and could be better.
All in all I enjoyed reading, and thinking about this. Well done, thank you.