Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ROAN STALLION, by ROBINSON JEFFERS Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: The dog barked; then the woman stood in the doorway, and hearing Last Line: Who has killed god. The night-wind veering, the smell of the spilt wine drifted down hill from the h Subject(s): Horses | ||||||||
The dogwood leaves are bronzing, The hard apples glow in the sunlight, The year beats slowly to death. He is twenty-five or thirty. I admire him, I admire him In myself, without anthropomorphizing him. Horses, dogs, have died for us, it is a matter of record. We know they too are alive. They too suffer, and squander Their little lives recklessly, And for our little pleasure. Roan stallion, The eldest and best, You are always renewing your strength In your broken mane And in your eyes that flash Like an eagle's eyes. The Roman-nosed one, The maker of males, That with the violent And yet feminine cry Of a great bird Falls on the mare As if he had wings. To be owned by you, Or to die. No wonder the ancient cults Went in for this. Of the hundred Greek cities and islands, Every one Of them bred a great horse, Black, white, piebald, Ashen-grey or tan, Pallor of mares and stallions, Dappled and proud, Or with the spots of the leopard, Red and dun, A hundred breeds of horses, Some of them worth a kingdom, And each with a different beauty-- They lived like gods, And every man Worshipped his own city's horse, As the incarnation Of a divine animal. And the name of the horses Had the ring of bronze in it, Or in the deep-meadow's green, Or it was the sound of the sea On the cliffs of the solitary coast. The name of the horses Had a glory in it, And the sound of it Shone like a silver trumpet Or a savage drum. Roan stallion, In heaven you may prance and neigh. The black, the chestnut, the bay, The geldings and the mares, And the colts who are to come With the sweet mares, Forth from the womb, All, all, will be yours, In heaven. But here, Here on earth, The hoof prints rust into the grass As you stand, old and powerful, By the old fence of the sheepfold, The south wind blows, The sunlight flies around you And the hot, honeyed fragrance Of the autumn flowers. In your nostrils, O splendid And strong one, the smell Of the sea-foam and the sea-blossom. All the earth is yours, And all the fullness thereof, And the vast, brooding sky, And the sea's far-horizon. And yet you are but a thought, A dream, a roan horse, A shadow, cloud on the distant hills Of memory. Forever, here, in this Island solitude, In the timeless waves of the sea, The fading tides, the fading years, You pace, immortal, The wild shore of thought, One step ahead of your shadow, The roan, the sound of the sea, The world's beginning, and its end. | Discover our poem explanations - click here!Other Poems of Interest...ALL THE LITTLE HOOFPRINTS by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE HORSES by KATHARINE LEE BATES DANCERS AT THE MOY by PAUL MULDOON CRAZY HORSE SPEAKS: 3 by SHERMAN ALEXIE |
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