Romanticism in the time of Exams
Sitting here with a corporate law bare act just shut on one side, and a pile of labour law notes open for ready (yet unwilling) perusal, the romantic in me has suddenly come alive.
As paradoxical as it sounds, nearing midnight, with the weather being so windy and beautiful and the music being soft piano by Yiruma, despite the constant barrage of drab sections and cases, I remembered this poem by Louis Mac niece.
As a rule, most poets in the 1900’s and beyond are one who I steer clear from. I guess it the charm of classic works. But then, a few years ago I stumbled upon ‘Autumn Journal’ by L. Mac niece. And I never forgot the poem. The beauty of this verse need not be expounded on by me. Read on for yourself.
As for me, I am content with wistfully gazing out of my window for a few minutes while remembering these lines before I plough back into the live of workmen and their compensations.
September has come, It is hers whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
And all of London littered with remembered kisses.
- Louis MacNeice, "Autumn Journal""