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Re: BIRTHDAY: Iris Neva's poem and timely VN
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[In response to VN's famous opening line from Speak, Memory, beginning
"The cradle rocks above an abyss" and recently quoted in Iris Neva's
poem, John A. Rea sends these famous lines from Whitman's poem. VN was
familar with Whitman and coined the adjective "waltwhitmanesque" in Bend
Sinister (chapter 6, p. 95 of Vintage ed.) -- SES]
> OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,
> Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
> Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
> Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child,
leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
> Down from the shower’d halo,
> Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they
were alive,
> Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
> From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
> From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I
heard,
> From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with
tears,
> From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the
transparent mist,
> From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
> From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
> From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
> From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
> As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
> Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
> A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
> Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
> I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, 20
> Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
> A reminiscence sing.
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"The cradle rocks above an abyss" and recently quoted in Iris Neva's
poem, John A. Rea sends these famous lines from Whitman's poem. VN was
familar with Whitman and coined the adjective "waltwhitmanesque" in Bend
Sinister (chapter 6, p. 95 of Vintage ed.) -- SES]
> OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,
> Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
> Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
> Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child,
leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
> Down from the shower’d halo,
> Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they
were alive,
> Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
> From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
> From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I
heard,
> From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with
tears,
> From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the
transparent mist,
> From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
> From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
> From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
> From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
> As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
> Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
> A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
> Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
> I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, 20
> Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
> A reminiscence sing.
Search the archive: http://listserv.ucsb.edu/archives/nabokv-l.html
Search archive with Google:
http://www.google.com/advanced_search?q=site:listserv.ucsb.edu&HL=en
Contact the Editors: mailto:nabokv-l@utk.edu,nabokv-l@holycross.edu
Visit Zembla: http://www.libraries.psu.edu/nabokov/zembla.htm
View Nabokv-L policies: http://web.utk.edu/~sblackwe/EDNote.htm