W.S. Merwin's Search Party [Merwin's ballade]
Search Party
By now I know most of the faces
that will appear beside me as
long as there are still images
I know at last what I would choose
the next time if there ever was
a time again I know the days
that open in the dark like this
I do not know where Maoli is
I know the summer surfaces
of bodies and the tips of voices
like stars out of their distances
and where the music turns to noise
I know the bargains in the news
rules whole languages formulas
wisdom that I will never use
I do not know where Maoli is
I know whatever one may lose
somebody will be there who says
what it will be all right to miss
and what is verging on excess
I know the shadows of the house
routes that lead out to no traces
many of his empty places
I do not know where Maoli is
You that see now with your own eyes
all that there is as you suppose
though I could stare through broken glass
and show you where the morning goes
though I could follow to their close
the sparks of an exploding species
and see where the world ends in ice
I would not know where Maoli is
— W. S. Merwin
=======
Tomorrow is the poet's birthday. I begin the blogo-celebration with this particularly beloved poem. Regarding the poem, one blogger amusingly remarks,
François Villon
It is said that among English poets, Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909) was one who followed the French model in such old forms as the villanelle and the ballade. The villanelle subsequently caught on in English (on & off & on, but it's certainly practiced these days), whereas very few poets in English (so far as I've noted) have opted to practice the ballade. I'd like to see what Swinburne did. A poem like this of Villon's is formidable. I'm somewhat hankering to learn the form myself (including the rhyme structure found in the French -- not evident in Galway's translation). (But perhaps I was thinking of the sestina and the ballade? Well, the point stands: sestinas are essayed in English; ballades, it seems, are not. Which naturally lends the form further interest.)
Ah, well here is Swinburne's translation of one Villon ballade -- a more verbose form of it (with 10-line rather than 8-line stanzas). I'm more interested in the 8-line form.
Ah well, here is a(n 8-lines-per-stanza) ballade of Villon's in the original -- which may suffice to instruct in the proper form. "But where are the snows of yesteryear?" asks the refrain. Ah but I barely can make my way through the presumed sound of the French (leave aside the question of meaning) -- so parsing the rhyme structure is a bit harder than I'd thought. Here's a try.
Dictes moy ou, n'en quel pays, [A]
Est Flora la belle Rommaine, [B]
Archipiades ne Thaïs, [A]
Qui fut sa cousine germaine, [B]
Echo parlant quant bruyt on maine [B]
Dessus riviere ou sus estan, [C]
Qui beaulté ot trop plus q'humaine. [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Ou est la tres sage Helloïs, [A]
Pour qui chastré fut et puis moyne [B]
Pierre Esbaillart a Saint Denis? [A]
Pour son amour ot ceste essoyne. [B]
Semblablement, ou est la royne [B]
Qui commanda que Buridan [C]
Fust geté en ung sac en Saine? [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
La royne Blanche comme lis [A]
Qui chantoit a voix de seraine, [B]
Berte au grand pié, Beatris, Alis, [A]
Haremburgis qui tint le Maine, [B]
Et Jehanne la bonne Lorraine [B]
Qu'Englois brulerent a Rouan; [C]
Ou sont ilz, ou, Vierge souvraine? [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Prince, n'enquerez de sepmaine [B]
Ou elles sont, ne de cest an, [C]
Qu'a ce reffrain ne vous remaine: [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Ah, so it seems to be:
ABAB BCBC
ABAB BCBC
ABAB BCBC
BCBC
good!
The hint of rhyming in Merwin's poem is subtle, but it appears to follow the same pattern. He opts for 4 stanzas of 8 lines (rather than the truncated "envoy" of the conventional ballade). But it's interesting to note the light rhyming, thus:
By now I know most of the faces [A]
that will appear beside me as [B]
long as there are still images [A]
I know at last what I would choose [B]
the next time if there ever was [B]
a time again I know the days [C]
that open in the dark like this [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [C]
(though what I'm presuming to call A, B and C rhymes are so similar, we really end with a couplet).
I know the summer surfaces [A]
of bodies and the tips of voices [B]
like stars out of their distances [A]
and where the music turns to noise [B]
I know the bargains in the news [B]
rules whole languages formulas [A]
wisdom that I will never use [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [A]
Again, this is not precise. Now he varies the pattern a bit --
I know whatever one may lose [B]
somebody will be there who says [A]
what it will be all right to miss [B]
and what is verging on excess [A]
I know the shadows of the house [A]
routes that lead out to no traces [B]
many of his empty places [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [A]
You that see now with your own eyes [A]
all that there is as you suppose [B]
though I could stare through broken glass [A]
and show you where the morning goes [B]
though I could follow to their close [B]
the sparks of an exploding species [A]
and see where the world ends in ice [A]
I would not know where Maoli is [A]
(at least approximately!)
See also my recent, earlier rumination on Merwin.
By now I know most of the faces
that will appear beside me as
long as there are still images
I know at last what I would choose
the next time if there ever was
a time again I know the days
that open in the dark like this
I do not know where Maoli is
I know the summer surfaces
of bodies and the tips of voices
like stars out of their distances
and where the music turns to noise
I know the bargains in the news
rules whole languages formulas
wisdom that I will never use
I do not know where Maoli is
I know whatever one may lose
somebody will be there who says
what it will be all right to miss
and what is verging on excess
I know the shadows of the house
routes that lead out to no traces
many of his empty places
I do not know where Maoli is
You that see now with your own eyes
all that there is as you suppose
though I could stare through broken glass
and show you where the morning goes
though I could follow to their close
the sparks of an exploding species
and see where the world ends in ice
I would not know where Maoli is
— W. S. Merwin
=======
Tomorrow is the poet's birthday. I begin the blogo-celebration with this particularly beloved poem. Regarding the poem, one blogger amusingly remarks,
Maybe I’m a sentimental fool, but after he read “Search Party,” a poem about the disappearance and reappearance of his dog, I found myself trying to pretend that the tears in my eyes were from allergies.Merwin's poem is interestingly modelled on a ballade of François Villon's. The latter finds this English version thanks to Galway Kinnell:
I know flies in milkTrans. by Galway Kinnell
I know the man by his clothes
I know fair weather from foul
I know the apple by the tree
I know the tree when I see the sap
I know when all is one
I know who labors and who loafs
I know everything but myself.
I know the coat by the collar
I know the monk by the cowl
I know the master by the servant
I know the nun by the veil
I know when a hustler rattles on
I know fools raised on whipped cream
I know the wine by the barrel
I know everything but myself.
I know the horse and the mule
I know their loads and their limits
I know Beatrice and Belle
I know the beads that count and add
I know nightmare and sleep
I know the Bohemians' error
I know the power of Rome
I know everything but myself.
Prince I know all things
I know the rosy-cheeked and the pale
I know death who devours all
I know everything but myself.
François Villon
It is said that among English poets, Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909) was one who followed the French model in such old forms as the villanelle and the ballade. The villanelle subsequently caught on in English (on & off & on, but it's certainly practiced these days), whereas very few poets in English (so far as I've noted) have opted to practice the ballade. I'd like to see what Swinburne did. A poem like this of Villon's is formidable. I'm somewhat hankering to learn the form myself (including the rhyme structure found in the French -- not evident in Galway's translation). (But perhaps I was thinking of the sestina and the ballade? Well, the point stands: sestinas are essayed in English; ballades, it seems, are not. Which naturally lends the form further interest.)
Ah, well here is Swinburne's translation of one Villon ballade -- a more verbose form of it (with 10-line rather than 8-line stanzas). I'm more interested in the 8-line form.
Ah well, here is a(n 8-lines-per-stanza) ballade of Villon's in the original -- which may suffice to instruct in the proper form. "But where are the snows of yesteryear?" asks the refrain. Ah but I barely can make my way through the presumed sound of the French (leave aside the question of meaning) -- so parsing the rhyme structure is a bit harder than I'd thought. Here's a try.
Dictes moy ou, n'en quel pays, [A]
Est Flora la belle Rommaine, [B]
Archipiades ne Thaïs, [A]
Qui fut sa cousine germaine, [B]
Echo parlant quant bruyt on maine [B]
Dessus riviere ou sus estan, [C]
Qui beaulté ot trop plus q'humaine. [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Ou est la tres sage Helloïs, [A]
Pour qui chastré fut et puis moyne [B]
Pierre Esbaillart a Saint Denis? [A]
Pour son amour ot ceste essoyne. [B]
Semblablement, ou est la royne [B]
Qui commanda que Buridan [C]
Fust geté en ung sac en Saine? [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
La royne Blanche comme lis [A]
Qui chantoit a voix de seraine, [B]
Berte au grand pié, Beatris, Alis, [A]
Haremburgis qui tint le Maine, [B]
Et Jehanne la bonne Lorraine [B]
Qu'Englois brulerent a Rouan; [C]
Ou sont ilz, ou, Vierge souvraine? [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Prince, n'enquerez de sepmaine [B]
Ou elles sont, ne de cest an, [C]
Qu'a ce reffrain ne vous remaine: [B]
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? [C]
Ah, so it seems to be:
ABAB BCBC
ABAB BCBC
ABAB BCBC
BCBC
good!
The hint of rhyming in Merwin's poem is subtle, but it appears to follow the same pattern. He opts for 4 stanzas of 8 lines (rather than the truncated "envoy" of the conventional ballade). But it's interesting to note the light rhyming, thus:
By now I know most of the faces [A]
that will appear beside me as [B]
long as there are still images [A]
I know at last what I would choose [B]
the next time if there ever was [B]
a time again I know the days [C]
that open in the dark like this [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [C]
(though what I'm presuming to call A, B and C rhymes are so similar, we really end with a couplet).
I know the summer surfaces [A]
of bodies and the tips of voices [B]
like stars out of their distances [A]
and where the music turns to noise [B]
I know the bargains in the news [B]
rules whole languages formulas [A]
wisdom that I will never use [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [A]
Again, this is not precise. Now he varies the pattern a bit --
I know whatever one may lose [B]
somebody will be there who says [A]
what it will be all right to miss [B]
and what is verging on excess [A]
I know the shadows of the house [A]
routes that lead out to no traces [B]
many of his empty places [B]
I do not know where Maoli is [A]
You that see now with your own eyes [A]
all that there is as you suppose [B]
though I could stare through broken glass [A]
and show you where the morning goes [B]
though I could follow to their close [B]
the sparks of an exploding species [A]
and see where the world ends in ice [A]
I would not know where Maoli is [A]
(at least approximately!)
See also my recent, earlier rumination on Merwin.
posted by david raphael israel at 12:03 AM
1 Comments:
Here's another Villon ballade, where the pattern (using just 3 rhyme syllables) seems clear:Ballade Des Dames Du Temps Jadis.
Wallace Stevens (it's suggested, based on that one from Villon) also composed a ballade in early days, "The Pink Parasol." His rhyme scheme is worth noting:
ABAB BCBC
DEDE ECDC
FGFG GCBC
HCHC
-- in short, he doesn't hesitate to add new rhyme-syllables [by poem's end, there are some 8 of 'em] (which, in English, may be a sensible solution or way of handling the form).
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