1930.
Only seven years before his death, HP Lovecraft's poetic form has reached its maturity. No longer writing "à la Lord Dunsany", Lovecraft writes how he feels he ought to write. This poem has become the heading of the book "The Complete Poetical Works of HP Lovecraft".
It is much shorter, somehow less impressive than the poetic suite "Fungi from Yuggoth". Lovecraft has reached simplicity, which is one of the most difficult things to acquire; sticking to the essential without getting lost in unnecessary details. Cosmic terror is here, more suggested than described.
There was no hand to hold me back
That night I found the ancient track
Over the hill, and strained to see
The fields that teased my memory.
This tree, that wall—I knew them well,
And all the roofs and orchards fell
Familiarly upon my mind
As from a past not far behind.
I knew what shadows would be cast
When the late moon came up at last
From back of Zaman’s Hill, and how
The vale would shine three hours from now.
Um mich zurück zu halten gab es keine Hand.
In dieser Nacht wenn ich die uralte Spur fand
You're probably not gonna believe it but I uploaded this file to YouTube on Thursday 20th in the morning, That is when I thought the editing & mixing were acceptable at last (which had kept me awake the whole blinking night) and I realized nearly three days after, when browsing on the HP Lovecraft Facebook page, that 20 August 2015 is his 125th birthday.
So, August Twentieth or August Derleth?
poem read by actor; poème dit par comédien; Gedicht gesprochen von Schauspieler; poesia interpretata da attore. Poetry reading #16
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