Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THEY DO NOT KNOW, by ALBERT MOCKEL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THEY DO NOT KNOW, by                    
First Line: Far in the meadow, through the fountainrain
Last Line: I had known my own kisses again.
Subject(s): Grief; Love - Loss Of; Melancholy; Solitude; Tears; Sorrow; Sadness; Dejection; Loneliness


(Slightly Naïve Fable-Song)

Far in the meadow, through the fountainrain,
A voice sang through the laughing fountainrain:
"What comes we'll see, what comes will be."
At the deep fountain, coming from the plain,
I met a beggar near the fountainrain.
What comes we'll see, what comes will be!

Shiny was his dagger as his glance was free,
And his manner of telling you howdeedee
Was as bold as the captain of a company
Of brigands who bow to his domain;
What comes we'll see, what comes we'll see will be.

A blue cloak fluttering raggedly
(How long and sad! how long the plain!)
A blue cloak fluttering raggedly
Like a dream of love in its undulant train
Showed his proud nudity.

"Ah, sad and long, sad is the plain ..."
As he spoke, my tears could not restrain—
"I am sad, sweetheart, and I feel thy pain,
Ah! I am sad as is the plain!
My soul has stolen griefs to gain,
My heart has unknown gifts to see ...
I am sad, sweetheart, come comfort me."

(For long and sad, long is the plain.)

"I cannot," I told him. "My heart is in fee
To one who's at war in a far country;
I await his return from beyond the plain—
Oh, long and sad as is my pain—
He will drink of my kisses joyously
As my lone tears fall with the fountainrain.
(But what comes we'll see, what comes will be,
He should never have gone away from me.)

"Dark and gloomy is the sad and long, long plain!
And last year's love's forgot like the leaves of a tree.
Long is the plain as his disdain;
In the heart of thy lover is a new love's reign:
He spurns the gift of thy loyalty,
He sheds not a tear at thought of thee.
His kiss despises thy distant chain
While what comes we'll see and what comes will be;
Another fair, a fair more fair to see
Holds him with avid lips among the enemy."

"If he were to come ... His dagger free
With the red kiss of hate would welcome me,
My slender arms constrain,
My loose-flung tresses stain—
Loose-flung in vain—
Heedless of the kisses I'd shower frenziedly
To appease him, to plead with him, to turn his jealousy."

"See how long and sad is the plain;
Come, I grow weak with my pain;
Let our twin eyes our souls contain ...
See, long, vast, immense, is the plain;
If he come—we'll know how to break free."

"I love you! I love you! Drink of me
As the sun takes its full of the sea!
Yes, hopeless and long is the plain:
Let us seek our mirage in the fountainrain
And what comes we'll see and what comes will be!
Come, I am sad; come share my pain.
Come, feel your love on my lips regain
Its fire; come taste of my lips amain!"

(By the fountainrain,
At the end of the long and sad, the long, sad plain,
Another love has come to me;
What comes we'll see will be!)

But, drawing back on the saddened plain:
"Faithless woman, you have forgotten me;
I who taught you to kiss. Now faithfully
To heal you of your too long pain
I have deserted the far domain
Where the clouds cover the enemy,
I have recrossed, to this country,
The sad and the long, long plain!"

Ah! My love! What comes will be!

Of a sudden he lifted his dagger to me;
I leapt away and turned to flee
Through the long meadow past the fountainrain ...
He swayed, like a falling gallows-tree,
Cursing the sad, long plain.

And I loved him, who had taught love to me.
Alas! He saw, through the fountainrain,
He saw, deep through the fountainrain,
A day that killed all yesterday.
He saw his own dear image plain,
He saw his rival's image reign. ...
His dagger flashed to its hostelry
Within the favored enemy.

Ah! how long, long was the plain
When I drooped slowly back to see
Him drowned beneath the fountainrain ...
What comes will be, will be.

Why had he wished to play on me?
Under the garb of his chicane,
Under his mantle, torn in twain,
My lips had felt his love unfree
Reach forth its arms in vain.

Ah! that he wished to play on me,
For I had known him readily;
I'd have seen him afar, across the longest plain:
I had known my own kisses again.





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