Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Gwyneth Lewis ‘Spiderings’ Ian Thomson ‘Fires were started: Tallinn, 1944’ Adrian May ‘Traditionalism and Tradition’ Judith Herzberg ‘Poems’ translated by Margitt Helbert Horatio Morpurgo ‘What is a Book?’
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 19, Volume 7 Number 5, May - June 1981.

Suffolk Poems Michael Hamburger

[Suffolk Poems, Michael Hamburger's new sequence, concludes with these three sections.]

VIII

   1
Brooding light. The days muted,
Muffled, as though no noise
From fighter 'plane, truck,
No voice from village or pasture
Could pierce it, this wad of silence
The land's put on; no wind,
Ruffling leafage still thick,
Green or yellowing (silvery
White, upturned, on the poplars)
Could prod a tree to hurry
Over the business of fall.

   2
Though as ever the air flows,
Freely grass and weeds
Grow, from new seed
Recently scattered, a circle,
Somewhere, is full, as the barns are,
The next not yet begun.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image