Hello
everyone –
Today,
October 4th marks the 62nd anniversary of the Space Age,
which was inaugurated by the launch of the world’s first artificial satellite,
Sputnik I, by the Soviet Union in 1957. In honor of this occasion, and also in
celebration of my annual first autumn sighting of Orion and Sirius early this
morning, here are some poems about the celestial wonders that humanity is
currently striving to reach.
“Winter
Stars” (1920)
By
Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
I
went out at night alone;
The
young blood flowing beyond the sea
Seemed
to have drenched my spirit’s wings —
I
bore my sorrow heavily.
But
when I lifted up my head
From
shadows shaken on the snow,
I
saw Orion in the east
Burn
steadily as long ago.
From
windows in my father’s house,
Dreaming
my dreams on winter nights,
I
watched Orion as a girl
Above
another city’s lights.
Years
go, dreams go, and youth goes too,
The
world’s heart breaks beneath its wars,
All
things are changed, save in the east
The
faithful beauty of the stars.
“Wanderers”
By
Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)
Wide
are the meadows of night,
And
daisies are shining there,
Tossing
their lovely dews,
Lustrous
and fair;
And
through these sweet fields go,
Wanderers
amid the stars --
Venus,
Mercury, Uranus, Neptune,
Saturn,
Jupiter, Mars.
‘Tired
in their silver, they move,
And
circling, whisper and say,
“Fair
are the blossoming meads of delight
Through
which we stray.”
“On
the Beach at Night”
By
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
On
the beach at night,
Stands
a child with her father,
Watching
the east, the autumn sky.
Up
through the darkness,
While
ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower
sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid
a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends
large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And
nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim
the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From
the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those
burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching,
silently weeps.
Weep
not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
Weep not, my darling,
With
these kisses let me remove your tears,
The
ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They
shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter
shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night, the Pleiades shall emerge,
They
are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The
great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The
vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then
dearest child mournest thou only for Jupiter?
Considerest
thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something
there is,
(With
my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I
give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something
there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many
the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something
that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer
than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or
the radiant sisters the Pleiades.
Until
next time – keep looking up! J
Rob
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