Thank you for sharing this poem with all of us. The line that struck me was "Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying". What a contrast between youth and the end of it all. Time always present, always ticking away moment by moment. And in-between the ticks of the clock there is a minuscule moment of life, joy, bliss and peace. I wonder how many of us reveal in the in-between and find the joy in being able to hear the next tick of the clock. Time holds us in its grasp and we can either embrace it or rage against it, either way time will continue so let us choose wisely.
I had never read this poem before.My favorite lines were “And the Sabbath rang slowly in the pebbles of the holy streams.” I remember when earlier generations had to memorize poems to read out loud. I wonder if I could memorize some of the vivid phrases as shorthand for seeing how beautiful life is. There is so much cruelty and suffering in the world that I need to look for the awe and wonder that are available daily in nature. Yesterday, I saw a Cooper’s hawk gliding in the sky, and in this poem I learned about nightjays. Some of the language was difficult for me, so I appreciate the commentary to understand the poem better. I googled ricks , since I didn’t understand flying with the ricks and horses. I learned about a lot of men named Rick and a cord of firewood.🤣Thanks for the inspiration - would like to learn more.
I would love to go line by line and discuss what he means in each stanza. It’s so wonderfully full of imagery and reminds me of my days on our family farm (before I became a “laborer”).
Susan, this title jumped out at me due to a lovely interview that remains fresh in my mind. Krista Tippett of On Being is interviewing the English naturalist and writer Michael McCarthy about his book The Moth Snowstorm, which I read and loved. During the interview, McCarthy begins to express his love for spring beautifully, and it as a metaphor for rebirth, as do I, being a long-time lover of wildflowers and photography, when he mentions his woodland scientist friend saying to him “I just see life now as how many springs I've got left." This quote will forever stay with me as I now think the same thing: How many more springs will I be able to see?
Loved this poem too, Susan. I remember it from my school days. Thank you for sharing it. It's utterly visceral. I hope to be uplifted for scores of Springs yet. Decades would do.
It even inspired a rewrite of a Spring poem for Equinox. See what you and your readers think.
"I was prince of the apple towns and lived like a young boy" definitely brought back carefree, wonderful childhood memories. We had an apple tree in our yard and we, me and my other four siblings were princes and princesses of the apple towns (tree). That tree brought us hours of joy. We nailed boards in it so that we could climb it and never once complained. Thank you for sharing Susan as I had never heard of this poem or author.
Truly a masterwork, I just love it. “And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,” particularly caught me, the feeling familiar in that, just the happiness it portrays. That’s a bittersweet memory.
I believe that I will need to read this at least another 10 times. At first read it seems very eloquent, somewhat biblical, and melancholic.Need time to reflect.
A million thanks for sharing this marvel. Yes, as you say, Susan, "it’s an hymn, a songbird, a devotion." An ode to Youth's breath and pulsebeat so in rhythm with earth. We miss it after childhood, that timeless magic's stirring, thrilling its way into our bloodstream and our soul. "Down the rivers of the windfall light" as they beautifully haunt us forever. A joy to be re:awakened into it today! Though I've not read 'Fern Hill' again for a few years, somehow it's always close, and always fresh:
My sciencey Dad was a major aficionado of Dylan Thomas' writings and recordings, from 'A Child's Christmas in Wales' and 'Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night' to the remarkable play, 'Under Milkwood' -- all heard in our home from time to time, thanks to the poet's early recordings. What a revelation to see my laconic father's facial expression whilst he listened -- clues to his own 'quiet life's depth at its centre. (a sweet secret he gave me: 'Fern Hill' was born the same year as I was, just as WWII ended...)
Here's the poet himself reading it for us, his lilting Welsh voice vivifying its effect as no other can: may it spark shivers of his essential spirit to hum and tingle yours too ...
WOW! I ended the reading in tears. I knew I'd go there from the beginning. This splendid ode to the child's dawning awareness of Nature's glory; experienced only as a child could, carefreely, fully in the moment, suffused in the sensorial splendor of Creation in emergence. Then we taste the inevitability of separation, of "...the children, green and golden, (who) follow him out of grace." The looming bittersweetness, conveyed impressionistically throughout, culminating in:
"Oh, as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means.
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea."
Beautifully devastating!
(I wondered, "Who is the "he" in this brilliant reflection: God or Dylan's father or a person who figured large in his childhood?)
Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem - a profound reminder of how much the cycle of our human lives mirrors the fate of all nature!
( ... for me, 'he' refers both to the sun and to time itself (not separate, really) ... the poet feels them as facets of a great presence that's glorying in and through his own boyhood awareness of kinship with them ... )
I couldn’t stop thinking about his most famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” with its admonition to fight death. This is 180 degrees in sentiment as seems to me to advocate living your youth gently and appreciatively.
(... as I recall, do 'Not Go Gentle' was written when the poet's father was dying -- so in that way, you're spot-on -- 'Fern Hill' celebrates the full-on vitality of youth, and Do Not Go Gentle urges us not to give up our precious life too readily ... there's huge, vibrant energy, so strong and so dear, in both poems ...)
"About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns"
I felt the whimsy and joy of carefree childhood play in my body when reading the first two stanzas especially. I felt the sun on my face and the bouncy, yet grounded in the present, energy of youth and could not help but smile. I have never read this poem and loved it. Thank you for sharing it. It pairs perfectly with spring and those first days of sun and flowers and birdsong. Spring is the time, especially in colder climates, that brings that childhood excitement back with little effort for me.
The lingering awareness of the night and having no control over time passing "time let me hail and climb" also highlighted the preciousness of those moments we appreciate more when we age. Reminds me that we can choose to enjoy the day just like this anytime we want to just by recalling memory of childhood or a perfect day or this poem or just by being present with the wonder of a child
Thank you for sharing this poem with all of us. The line that struck me was "Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying". What a contrast between youth and the end of it all. Time always present, always ticking away moment by moment. And in-between the ticks of the clock there is a minuscule moment of life, joy, bliss and peace. I wonder how many of us reveal in the in-between and find the joy in being able to hear the next tick of the clock. Time holds us in its grasp and we can either embrace it or rage against it, either way time will continue so let us choose wisely.
I had never read this poem before.My favorite lines were “And the Sabbath rang slowly in the pebbles of the holy streams.” I remember when earlier generations had to memorize poems to read out loud. I wonder if I could memorize some of the vivid phrases as shorthand for seeing how beautiful life is. There is so much cruelty and suffering in the world that I need to look for the awe and wonder that are available daily in nature. Yesterday, I saw a Cooper’s hawk gliding in the sky, and in this poem I learned about nightjays. Some of the language was difficult for me, so I appreciate the commentary to understand the poem better. I googled ricks , since I didn’t understand flying with the ricks and horses. I learned about a lot of men named Rick and a cord of firewood.🤣Thanks for the inspiration - would like to learn more.
Beautiful imagery that captures the lightness and rejuvenating nature of youth.
I would love to go line by line and discuss what he means in each stanza. It’s so wonderfully full of imagery and reminds me of my days on our family farm (before I became a “laborer”).
For me, the passage that hit me was:
“In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means”
Susan, this title jumped out at me due to a lovely interview that remains fresh in my mind. Krista Tippett of On Being is interviewing the English naturalist and writer Michael McCarthy about his book The Moth Snowstorm, which I read and loved. During the interview, McCarthy begins to express his love for spring beautifully, and it as a metaphor for rebirth, as do I, being a long-time lover of wildflowers and photography, when he mentions his woodland scientist friend saying to him “I just see life now as how many springs I've got left." This quote will forever stay with me as I now think the same thing: How many more springs will I be able to see?
Loved this poem too, Susan. I remember it from my school days. Thank you for sharing it. It's utterly visceral. I hope to be uplifted for scores of Springs yet. Decades would do.
It even inspired a rewrite of a Spring poem for Equinox. See what you and your readers think.
https://theseainme.substack.com/p/spring-equinox?r=46rss
Very few! So what to do with the remaining springtimes - in my case, too much - "My wishes raced through the house high hay”.
oh wow. i am breathless. i literally felt i jumped in the wave of his words; The same feeling when one jumps in the ocean. All senses immersed
"I was prince of the apple towns and lived like a young boy" definitely brought back carefree, wonderful childhood memories. We had an apple tree in our yard and we, me and my other four siblings were princes and princesses of the apple towns (tree). That tree brought us hours of joy. We nailed boards in it so that we could climb it and never once complained. Thank you for sharing Susan as I had never heard of this poem or author.
Truly a masterwork, I just love it. “And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,” particularly caught me, the feeling familiar in that, just the happiness it portrays. That’s a bittersweet memory.
I believe that I will need to read this at least another 10 times. At first read it seems very eloquent, somewhat biblical, and melancholic.Need time to reflect.
A million thanks for sharing this marvel. Yes, as you say, Susan, "it’s an hymn, a songbird, a devotion." An ode to Youth's breath and pulsebeat so in rhythm with earth. We miss it after childhood, that timeless magic's stirring, thrilling its way into our bloodstream and our soul. "Down the rivers of the windfall light" as they beautifully haunt us forever. A joy to be re:awakened into it today! Though I've not read 'Fern Hill' again for a few years, somehow it's always close, and always fresh:
My sciencey Dad was a major aficionado of Dylan Thomas' writings and recordings, from 'A Child's Christmas in Wales' and 'Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night' to the remarkable play, 'Under Milkwood' -- all heard in our home from time to time, thanks to the poet's early recordings. What a revelation to see my laconic father's facial expression whilst he listened -- clues to his own 'quiet life's depth at its centre. (a sweet secret he gave me: 'Fern Hill' was born the same year as I was, just as WWII ended...)
Here's the poet himself reading it for us, his lilting Welsh voice vivifying its effect as no other can: may it spark shivers of his essential spirit to hum and tingle yours too ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNWBVlIBjQ8
WOW! I ended the reading in tears. I knew I'd go there from the beginning. This splendid ode to the child's dawning awareness of Nature's glory; experienced only as a child could, carefreely, fully in the moment, suffused in the sensorial splendor of Creation in emergence. Then we taste the inevitability of separation, of "...the children, green and golden, (who) follow him out of grace." The looming bittersweetness, conveyed impressionistically throughout, culminating in:
"Oh, as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means.
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea."
Beautifully devastating!
(I wondered, "Who is the "he" in this brilliant reflection: God or Dylan's father or a person who figured large in his childhood?)
Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem - a profound reminder of how much the cycle of our human lives mirrors the fate of all nature!
( ... for me, 'he' refers both to the sun and to time itself (not separate, really) ... the poet feels them as facets of a great presence that's glorying in and through his own boyhood awareness of kinship with them ... )
I’ll re-read with that interpretation in mind!
I couldn’t stop thinking about his most famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” with its admonition to fight death. This is 180 degrees in sentiment as seems to me to advocate living your youth gently and appreciatively.
(... as I recall, do 'Not Go Gentle' was written when the poet's father was dying -- so in that way, you're spot-on -- 'Fern Hill' celebrates the full-on vitality of youth, and Do Not Go Gentle urges us not to give up our precious life too readily ... there's huge, vibrant energy, so strong and so dear, in both poems ...)
"About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns"
I felt the whimsy and joy of carefree childhood play in my body when reading the first two stanzas especially. I felt the sun on my face and the bouncy, yet grounded in the present, energy of youth and could not help but smile. I have never read this poem and loved it. Thank you for sharing it. It pairs perfectly with spring and those first days of sun and flowers and birdsong. Spring is the time, especially in colder climates, that brings that childhood excitement back with little effort for me.
The lingering awareness of the night and having no control over time passing "time let me hail and climb" also highlighted the preciousness of those moments we appreciate more when we age. Reminds me that we can choose to enjoy the day just like this anytime we want to just by recalling memory of childhood or a perfect day or this poem or just by being present with the wonder of a child
O...and try to listen to Dylan Thomas reading "Fern Hill". That takes it to another
level entirely! His voice, his spoken language...so very beautiful.
I posted the link above, to hear him -- here 'tis again:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNWBVlIBjQ8