{"id":58366,"date":"2019-03-28T12:46:25","date_gmt":"2019-03-28T11:46:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=58366"},"modified":"2019-04-01T10:07:07","modified_gmt":"2019-04-01T09:07:07","slug":"breeze-poetry-in-the-breeze","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=58366","title":{"rendered":"BREEZE; Poetry in the Breeze"},"content":{"rendered":"

When the breeze flits across your brow, and the grass pokes through the spaces between your toes, a particular feeling can begin to take hold. Breathing deeply the fragrances carried by the wind, the mind begins to wander and imagine all sorts of wonderful things. Is it any wonder that so much poetry has been written about the grass and the breeze? A plethora of writing is available, so we have chosen three of our favourite poets, all of whom are renowned in their own right and whose work is particularly captivating.<\/p>\n

These poems are best enjoyed\u00a0in the surroundings they portray. A book of poetry brought to the park on a sunny day spent reading amongst the fresh grass,\u00a0the breeze blowing freely, will make these poets’ words ring true and will put you into the right state of mind to enjoy them.<\/p>\n

Walt Whitman\u2019s collection Leaves of Grass<\/em> is, as the title implies, written in precisely this mood. Most will probably be familiar with Whitman \u2013 one of the first great American poets, and roundly celebrated for it. Whitman’s work resists classification; it is something in between the Transcendentalism that preceded him, and the Realism that followed him.\u00a0But what is easier to grasp is his sheer love of the natural world – of the grass and the breeze.<\/p>\n

\"Walt<\/a>Walt Whitman, ‘Song of Myself’<\/p>\n

When ‘Song of Myself’ \u2013 the collection\u2019s most famous poem \u2013 opens with these triumphant lines:<\/p>\n

I celebrate myself, and sing myself
\nAnd what I assume you shall assume
\nFor every atom belonging to me as belongs to you
\nI loafe and invite my soul
\nI lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass,<\/em><\/p>\n

you know you’re in for something quite powerful.<\/p>\n

Because Whitman places himself here in precisely the mood of that particular feeling. Every atom belongs to him, as it belongs to you \u2013 loafing in the grass, observing one of its single spears, Whitman opens his poem by telling the reader that everything \u2013 him, you, me, and the spear of summer grass \u2013 is one.<\/p>\n

The image of a poet sitting on a wild patch of grass with the breeze gently pinching the pages of his notebook before letting go is one which certainly puts you in a mood of Whitman\u2019s universal communion. That ‘Song of Myself’ is remembered and celebrated for its powerful bringing together of everything as one is of no surprise \u2013 but what is surprising is that the poem began when he looked at a spear of summer grass.<\/p>\n

‘To the Sun Set Breeze,’ another of Whitman\u2019s poems, tells a different story. Evidently, it is a poem about the breeze at sunset \u2013 but Whitman writes about it in a very unique way. Once again deep in contemplation, facing the eponymous breeze, Whitman writes:<\/p>\n

Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat;<\/em>
\nThou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than<\/em>
\ntalk, book, art.<\/em><\/p>\n

He is speaking directly to the wind \u2013 calling it thou. And although he, writing this poem two years before he died, is old and broken down, the breeze rejuvenates him. It is a better companion than any other activity: it is a poem about sitting in the wind, and how wonderful it is to do so.<\/p>\n

But this is not a new discovery. Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi \u2013 more well known as just Rumi \u2013 was a 13th-century Persian poet and scholar. He wrote an enormous amount \u2013 everything from juridical documents to religious treatises \u2013 but his poetry is perhaps what he is best remembered for. His poems are powerful, terse, and incredibly evocative. He is another poet best enjoyed when you are seated on the grass.<\/p>\n

\"Meeting<\/a>
Meeting of Jalal a-Din Rumi and Molla Shams Al-Din<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

His very brief poem ‘Breeze at Dawn’ is one such poem. While Whitman spoke of the breeze\u2019s vivacious powers on his old bones, Rumi’s poem has an altogether different point of view. The poem is only eight lines long:<\/p>\n

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
\nDon’t go back to sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n

You must ask for what you really want.<\/em>
\nDon’t go back to sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n

People are going back and forth across the doorsill<\/em>
\nwhere the two worlds touch.<\/em><\/p>\n

The door is round and open.<\/em>
\nDon’t go back to sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n

The breeze at dawn is a very different animal from the breeze at sunset. Here, it carries secrets and Rumi pleads with the reader not to go back to sleep. The breeze at dawn carries people back and forth across the two worlds \u2013 life and death? The poem is too brief to give any definite answers, but perhaps definitive answers are not what we should be looking for.<\/p>\n

Instead, think of how this poem so perfectly represents the feeling of the dawn breeze. Tired, wishing to go back to sleep, in a strange mood \u2013 the dawn breeze sets us in a surreal and contemplative mood, carries us to imagination and memory where the dead walk through the round and open door of our mind into life.<\/p>\n

Rabindranath Tagore, the celebrated Bengali poet, imagines the breeze as something far more playful and wonderful in ‘Passing Breeze.’ Another brief poem \u2013 its 11 lines much closer to Rumi\u2019s work than the 70 or so pages that make up Whitman\u2019s ‘Song of Myself’ \u2013 it encapsulates the delightful feeling of the breeze.<\/p>\n

\"Rabindranath<\/a>
Rabindranath Tagore<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In the poem, Tagore is speaking to his lover:<\/p>\n

Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love,
\nO beloved of my heart—this golden light
\nthat dances upon the leaves,
\nthese idle clouds sailing across the sky,
\nthis passing breeze leaving its coolness
\nupon my forehead.<\/em><\/p>\n

The morning light has flooded my eyes—<\/em>
\nthis is thy message to my heart.<\/em>
\nThy face is bent from above,<\/em>
\nthy eyes look down on my eyes,<\/em>
\nand my heart has touched thy feet.<\/em><\/p>\n

Curiously, in a poem named ‘Passing Breeze,’ the actual breeze only makes a brief appearance, leaving its coolness upon his Tagore\u2019s forehead. But it seems that this passing breeze is at the center of Tagore\u2019s love and adoration.<\/p>\n

Its coolness upon his forehead is accompanied with the light dancing on the leaves, idle clouds sailing by \u2013 in short, all of the wonderful things about sitting on the grass and feeling the breeze. And this naturally puts the poet in a state of mind filled with gentleness.<\/p>\n

The breeze and the leaves strike Tagore as a message to his heart from his lover, and he responds in kind. The delights offered to him by nature mirror those delights that his lover has given him. The poem is about happiness – about sharing and spreading the feeling of joy.<\/p>\n

Whitman, Rumi and Tagore portray nature very differently. But they all treat it as something essential to human existence. Whether it’s Whitman’s spear of grass bringing everything into one, or Tagore’s passing breeze setting passions aflame, they all believe in its beauty and power.<\/p>\n

And if any of these strike you as particularly compelling or beautiful, their works are not difficult to find. We have not even scratched the surface of these three wonderful poets, and if they\u2019ve struck your fancy, bring one of their books with you and make some time for the natural world.<\/p>\n

Lightly brushed by the wind, spears of grass folding underneath your feet, and a book of poetry in your hands — there is no better way to enjoy it, and no better way to find what\u00a0they mean to you.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When the breeze flits across your brow, and the grass pokes through the spaces between your toes, a particular feeling…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":158,"featured_media":58395,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[13250,13359,15,2301,211,13357,13358,7259],"features_issues":[],"featured_themes":[],"ppma_author":[16763],"class_list":["post-58366","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-literature","tag-breeze","tag-grass","tag-literature-2","tag-poem","tag-poetry","tag-rabindranath-tagore","tag-rumi","tag-walt-whitman"],"yoast_head":"\nBREEZE; 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