Down by the Thames at Erith

So much depends upon the river
the life it brings and the life it carries
to and fro  Its history stretches
back to prehistoric times when the first
settlements appeared on its banks
at Erith  Today it is home to carp
and salmon to sea-bass and smelt
and swans and herons and black-
winged cormorants to seals
and porpoises and too many other
lesser species to mention  At low
tide oyster catchers with their long
powerful red bills peck at the dense
mud probing for worms and molluscs
while all around them a congregation
of gulls settles down in the shallows
to feed And here and there along
the jetty anglers cast their baited hooks
and sit back on their stools and patiently
wait and wait for the first big fish to bite

John Lyons


Au bord de la Tamise, à Erith

Tant de choses dépendent du fleuve,
de la vie qu’il apporte et de celle qu’il transporte.
Son histoire remonte à la préhistoire, lorsque
les premiers établissements apparurent
sur ses rives à Erith. Aujourd’hui, il abrite
carpes, saumons, bars, éperlans, cygnes,
hérons, cormorans à plumage sombre,
phoques, marsouins et une multitude
d’autres espèces plus petites. À marée basse,
les huîtriers pie, avec leurs longs et puissants
becs rouges, picorent la vase épaisse
à la recherche de vers et de mollusques,
tandis qu’autour d’eux, une colonie de goélands
se pose dans les eaux peu profondes
pour se nourrir. Et ici et là, le long de la jetée,
les pêcheurs lancent leurs hameçons appâtés,
s’installent sur leurs tabourets et attendent
patiemment que le premier gros poisson morde.

No ideas but in things

lilac

No ideas but in things

Across the garden wall
         I see a tall array
of common lilac blooms
         the flowered cones
dipping gently
         in the easy summer air
as they bathe in the sunshine
         that will prove to be their ruin :
their season is on the cusp
         and by winter they will be gone

I hear the sparrow’s song
         the drone of pigeons
the harsh cry of magpies
         and I know that nature
is there to be heard
         and to be seen
I know that it is
         performance
that it clamours
         for our attention
that it is in fact
         the articulation
of Eden
         there
for the discerning eye
         for the discriminating ear
the spectacle of life
         unfolding
the to and fro of time
         that we call seasons
all out of the mineral earth
         from which we too
are shaped
         a heartfelt home
that is of the mind
         that feels its way
through life
         sufficient habitat
for those who have fallen
         on their feet

John Lyons


 

Ways of looking

Ways of looking

Poetry is a way
         of looking at the world
of scrutinising the world
         in all its facets
the world and its shadow
         its black clouds
and its bleached bones
         as well as the flowers
and the trees
         and their shadows

a man a woman
         and a blackbird
and their shadows
         a verbal cross-examination
of what is seen and felt
         and thought and touched
the pursuit of truth
         and beauty

momentary beauty
         immortalized in the mind
of mortal flesh
         So much depends
upon this unique art
         a red wheelbarrow
or a Grecian urn
         so much depends
on the energies harnessed

the bird a nest
         the spider a web
man poetry
         one crystal-cut word
in relation to another
         the fraternal art
that brings daffodils
         and roses
and a blackbird whistling
         that throws off
the cowl of winter
         and ushers in love

Beauty is dangerous
         as it is troublesome
the embodiment of truth
         in the memory
it defies all oppression
         defies all oppressors
and refuses to take no
         for an answer

John Lyons