Skip to content

Rambling At The Bridge Head

Russian and Welsh poetry etc.

Recent Posts

  • Ах, трубы медные гремят… (Military Parade) by Bulat Okudzhava
  • Pavane by R. S. Thomas
  • Урал впервые (The Urals For The First Time) by Boris Pasternak
  • A Problem for the Father of the Family by Franz Kafka
  • On The Farm by R. S. Thomas

Categories

Archives

Top Posts & Pages

  • Nicholas Was... by Neil Gaiman
  • Why East Wind Chills by Dylan Thomas
  • Marks & Spencer Dutch Shortcake Biscuits
  • Blue Notebook, No. 10 by Daniil Kharms
  • The Face by R.S. Thomas
  • You Will Not Grasp Her With Your Mind by Fyodor Tyutchev
  • The Kingdom by R. S. Thomas
  • 'He Loved Three Things Alone...' by Anna Akhmatova
  • The Small Window by R. S. Thomas
  • A Funny Pome by Rod Hull

Tags

  • absurd
  • absurdism
  • acme
  • acmeism
  • acmeist
  • akhmatova
  • anna akhmatova
  • Anna Andreyevna
  • cccp
  • christian
  • Christianity
  • czarist russia
  • death
  • d m thomas
  • emigre
  • English
  • english translation
  • God
  • Gorenko
  • heart
  • humor
  • humour
  • imperial russia
  • information
  • leningrad
  • life
  • love
  • lyric
  • lyric poetry
  • lyric verse
  • night
  • nonsense
  • nonsense verse
  • pitr
  • poem
  • poet
  • Poetry
  • Polish
  • Review
  • rhyme
  • rhyming couplet
  • robert chandler
  • r s thomas
  • Russia
  • russian
  • Russian Futurist
  • russian poem
  • russian poet
  • russian poetry
  • russian revolution centenary
  • soviet
  • soviet poet
  • soviet union
  • St Petersburg
  • translation
  • tsarist russia
  • USSR
  • verse
  • vignette
  • wales
  • Welsh
  • welsh poem
  • welsh poet
  • welsh poetry
  • white emigre
  • wind
  • winter
  • А́нна Андре́евна
  • А́нна Андре́евна Ахма́това
  • Анна Ахматова
  • Ахматова
  • СССР
  • Сове́тский Сою́з
  • Сою́з Сове́тских Социалисти́ческих Респу́блик
  • Союз Советских Социалистических Республик

Category Cloud

Bridgend Christmas Commentary Drink Food halloween horror Japanese Languages Literature Movie Review Observations Poetry Polish Review Russia Russian satire Theatre Uncategorized Vignette Wales Welsh

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 87 other followers

Follow Rambling At The Bridge Head on WordPress.com

Blogroll

  • Discover New Voices
  • Discuss
  • Get Inspired
  • Get Mobile
  • Get Polling
  • Get Support
  • Great Reads
  • Learn WordPress.com
  • Theme Showcase
  • WordPress.com News

Community

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Tag: shadowed him

Snow on the Mountain by Gillian Clarke

There was a girl riding a white pony

Which seemed an elemental part

Of the snow. A crow cut a clean line

Across the hill, which we grasped as a rope

to pull us up the pale diagonal.


The point was to be first at the top

Of the mountain. Our laughter bounced far

Below us like five fists full of pebbles. About us

Lay the snow, deep in the hollows,

Very clean and dry, untouched.


I arrived breathless, my head breaking

The surface of the glittering light, thinking

No place could claim more beauty, white

Slag tips like cones of sugar spun

By the pit wheels under Machen mountain.


I sat on a rock in the sun, watching

My snowboys play. Pit villages shine

Like anthracite. Completed, the pale rider

Rode away. I turned to him and saw

His joy fall like the laughter down a dark

Crack. The black crow shadowed him.


by Gillian Clarke

from The Sundial (Gwasg Gomer, 1978)

Machen mountain mentioned in this poem is Mynydd Machen which is a 362-metre-high (1,188 ft) hill lying between the town of Risca and the village of Machen in Caerphilly County Borough in south Wales. Its summit is crowned by a trig point and a mast. The poem was written when Wales still had a coal mining industry and there were slag heaps, refuse from the mines and quarries,  outside communities across the country.

Posted on December 11, 2018December 11, 2018Categories Literature, Poetry, Wales, WelshTags 1978, about us, about us lay the snow, across the hill, anthracite, arrived, arrived breathless, as a rope, beauty, bounced far below us, breaking the surface, breathless, clean and dry, clean line, clean line across the hill, cones of sugar, cones of sugar spun by the pit wheels, could claim, crow cut a clean line across the hill, crow shadowed him, cut a clean line, cut a clean line across the hill, cut cut a clean line, dark crack, deep, deep in the hollows, down a dark crack, elemental, elemental part, elemental part of the snow, first at the top, first at the top of the mountain, fists of pebbles, five fists, five fists of pebbles, gillian clarke, girl, girl riding, girl riding a white pony, glittering light, grasped, grasped as a rope, grasped as a rope to pull, hill, hollows, i arrived breathless, i sat on a rock in the sun, i turned to him and saw his joy fall, i turned to him and saw his joy fall like the laughter down a dark crack, in the hollows, joy fall, laughter, laughter bounced, laughter down a dark crack, lay the snow, machen, machen mountain, more beauty, mountain, my head breaking the surface of the glittering light, mynydd machen, no place, no place could claim, no place could claim more beauty, on a rock, on a rock in the sun, our laughter bounced, our laughter bounced far below us like five fists of pebbles, pale diagonal, pale rider, pale rider rode away, part of the snow, pebbles, pit villages, pit villages shine like anthracite, place, poem, poet, Poetry, pony, pull us up, pull us up the pale diagonal, riding, riding a white pony, rock in the sun, rode away, rope, rope to pull, rope to pull us up, sat on a rock, sat on a rock in the sun, saw his joy fall, saw his joy fall like the laughter down a dark crack, shadowed him, shine, shine like anthracite, slag tips, snow, snow on the mountain, snowboy, snowboys, snowboys play, south wales valleys, spun by the pit wheels, surface, surface of the glittering light, the point was, the point was to be first at the top of the mountain, there was a girl riding a white pony, thinking no place could claim more beauty, top of the mountain, turned to him, under machen mountain, untouched, up the pale diagonal, village, watching my snowboys play, we grasped, Welsh, welsh poem, welsh poet, welsh poetry, which we grasped, white pony, white slag tips like cones of sugarLeave a comment on Snow on the Mountain by Gillian Clarke
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy