?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Mending Wall — Robert Frost

weather: partly cloudy
outside: 19.6°C
mood: nerdy
Interesting. I love laughing and most jokes, I love comedy and improv. But when it comes to poetry, I'm drawn to meloncholy. I also appreciate playful snippets amidst the meloncholy: He is all pine and I am apple-orchard. / My apple trees will never get across / And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. *giggle* =)


    Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
    That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
    And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
    And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
    The work of hunters is another thing:
    I have come after them and made repair
    Where they have left not one stone on stone,
    But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
    To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
    No one has seen them made or heard them made,
    But at spring mending-time we find them there.
    I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
    And on a day we meet to walk the line
    And set the wall between us once again.
    We keep the wall between us as we go.
    To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
    And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
    We have to use a spell to make them balance:
    "Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
    We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
    Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
    One on a side. It comes to little more:
    He is all pine and I am apple-orchard.
    My apple trees will never get across
    And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
    He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
    Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
    If I could put a notion in his head:
    "Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
    Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
    Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
    What I was walling in or walling out,
    And to whom I was like to give offence.
    Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
    That wants it down!" I could say "Elves" to him,
    But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
    He said it for himself. I see him there,
    Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
    In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
    He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
    Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
    He will not go behind his father's saying,
    And he likes having thought of it so well
    He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

    — Robert Frost



marnanel says:

What is it that doesn't love a wall and sends the frozen ground swell under it? Frost, of course.

Indeed. =)

Tags:


Comments

marnanel
Aug. 19th, 2007 09:28 pm (UTC)
I love that poem.
bride
Aug. 19th, 2007 09:33 pm (UTC)
Yeah, this one is playful and a bit gloomy at the same time =)
marnanel
Aug. 19th, 2007 09:43 pm (UTC)
(It took me years to notice something: what IS it that doesn't love a wall and sends the frozen ground swell under it? Frost, of course. But Frost is also the person speaking in the poem. He himself is something that doesn't love a wall.
bride
Aug. 19th, 2007 09:51 pm (UTC)
Huh. Interesting.

Profile

eLouai
bride
The Bride of the First House

Latest Month

March 2015
S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031