A pale ray of sun

The weather refuses to improve yet, and we are treated to endless rain and waterlogged grass. So I took refuge in poetry, and I would like to share this poem by Louis MacNeice, which evokes the ephemeral pleasures of life. It is lyrical and sad, exploring themes of time, memory and loss.

I particularly like MacNeice’s mastery of the poetic form in the poem’s distinctive rhyme scheme and rhythm. The poet was anxious about the darkening political situation evolving in Europe at the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War and he evokes a sense of impending destruction. The allusions are vague and a modern reader can surely adapt them to his or her own experience.

So, without more ado, here it is.

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden

Hardens and grows cold,

We cannot cage the minute

Within its nets of gold;

When all is told

We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances

Advances towards its end;

The earth compels, upon it

Sonnets and birds descend;

And soon, my friend,

We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying

Defying the church bells

And every evil iron

Siren and what it tells:

The earth compels,

We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,

Hardened in heart anew,

But glad to have sat under

Thunder and rain with you,

And grateful too

For sunlight on the garden.