Sunday, 9 November 2008

Kubla Khan (1816)

I had an amazing English Lit. teacher (yes you harmony!) in my last two years of school... and amongst many things she taught me, in and out of class... at some point she brought this for us to read and work on... Kubla Khan... who knows what about it caught my eye... but from the first time i read it in class... from those 2 hours we worked on it... the endless times i re read it and she spoke about it... told us how it got written... why it wasnt ever completed... I fell in love with it...

today all of a sudden i thought of it again.. and realised i hadnt read it in a long time... i could barely remember what it was about or why i liked it... but i guess it doesnt really matter why... thats something i love about some kinds of poetry... you dont have to have a reason to enjoy it... well, here it is... for whoever wants to read it... and for me, whnever i want to read it...

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.


-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

6 comments:

Anon said...
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White Misschief said...

@ Vrinda.
Im glad you agree... and when was it that you came across it...?

Anon said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anon said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anon said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
White Misschief said...

@Vrinda.
well... now that i have someone i know is reading... i guess it time to start posting again...

sometimes thats all the inspiration one needs really...