“Two Loves,” for NaPoWriMo, Day 2


Today is Day 2 of National Poetry Writing Month (or, NaPoWriMo, for short).

However, between two blogs (this one and http://thetarotman.wordpress.com), a busy Psychic Practice and a wonderful professional endeavor, on the side, not to mention sleeping and eating (you know, those trivial things!), and the occasional attendance of a cultural event, the thought of writing a post a day, twice a day, for thirty days, seemed a bit daunting.

So, I AM going to “cheat” a little bit.

It is my honor and pleasure to transcribe a poem entitled Two Loves, by Lord Alfred Douglas, who was friend and lover to Oscar Wilde.  It was originally published in 1894, and was well-used in the trials against our great Gay Ancestor, Oscar Wilde, the following year.

And here we go…

 

Two Loves

by Lord Alfred Douglas

 

I dreamed I stood upon a little hill,

And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed

Like a waste garden, flowering at its will

With buds and blossoms.  There were pools that dreamed

Black and unruffled; there were white lilies

A few, and crocuses, and violets

Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries

Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets

Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun

And there were curious flowers, before unknown,

Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades

Of Nature’s wilful moods; and here a one

That had drunk in the transitory tone

Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades

Of grass that in an hundred springs had been

Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars,

And watered with the scented dew long cupped

In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen

Only God’s glory, for never a sunrise mars

The luminous air of Heaven.  Beyond, abrupt,

A grey stone wall, o’ergrown with velvet moss

Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed

To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair.

And as I stood and marvelled, lo!  across

The garden came a youth, one hand he raised

To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair

Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore

A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes

Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,

White as snow on pathless mountains frore,

Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes

A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.

And he came near me, with his lips uncurled

And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,

And gave me grapes to eat, and said, ‘Sweet friend,

Come I will show thee shadows of the world

And images of life.  See from the South

Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.’

And lo!  within the garden of my dream

I saw two walking on a shining plain

Of golden light.  The one did joyous seem

And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain

Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids

And joyous love of comely girl and boy,

His eyes were bright, and ‘mid the dancing blades

Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;

And in his hand he held and ivory lute

With strings of gold that were as maidens’ hair,

And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,

And round his neck three chains of roses were.

But he that was his comrade walked aside;

He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes

Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide

With gazing, and he sighed many sighs

That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white

Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red

Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,

And yet again unclenched, and his head

Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.

A purple robe he wore, o’erwrought in gold

With the device of a great snake, whose breath

Was fiery flame: which when I did behold

I fell a-weeping, and I cried, ‘Sweet youth,

Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove

These pleasant realms?  I pray thee speak me sooth

What is thy name?’ He said, ‘My name is Love.’

Then straight the first did turn himself to me

And cried, ‘He lieth, for his name is Shame,

But I am Love, and I was wont to be

Alone in this fair garden, till he came

Unasked by night, I am true Love, I fill

The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.’

Then sighing, said the other, ‘Have thy will,

I am the love that dare not speak its name.’

 

Before I close, I wish to acknowledge my newest blog followers to “This Gay Man’s Life…”  And they are: “pmitsuing,” “gianfrancogrande,” “David Scott Moyer,” and “firenzix.”  Thank you for choosing to follow “This Gay Man’s Life…”  May you receive great Insight, great Wisdom and great Pride from doing so.

And for those of you already following and reading this blog, thank you for honoring who you are and what you do.

Lord Alfred Douglas, also known as "Bosie."
Lord Alfred Douglas, also known as “Bosie.”
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