December 2023

As we approach the winter solstice we feature poems of peace and poems celebrating the beauty and fragility of the Natural World, as well as paying tribute to poets from earlier times, who still speak to us centuries later.

If you didn’t manage to see our most recent set of Poems on London Underground trains you can find our new poems by Seamus Heaney, Garous Abdolmalekian tr. Idra Novey & Ahmad Nadalizadeh, Anthony Joseph, Helen Ivory, Charles Simic and Karl Shapiro here

Moment in a Peace March by Grace Nichols

Moment in a Peace March, Grace Nichols ‘A holy multitude pouring Moment in a Peace March through the gates of Hyde Park – A great hunger repeated in cities all over the world’

Rainforest by Judith Wright

Rainforest, Judith Wright 'The forest drips and glows with green. The tree-frog croaks his far off song. His voice is stillness, moss and rain drunk from the forest ages long.'

Leaf by Seán Hewitt

Leaf , Seán Hewitt from Tongues of Fire 'For woods are forms of grief grown from the earth. For they creak with the weight of it. For each tree is an altar to time. For the oak, whose every knot guards a hushed cymbal of water. For how the silver water holds the heavens in its eye. For the axletree of heaven and the sleeping coil of wind and the moon keeping watch. For how each leaf traps light as it falls. For even in the nighttime of life it is worth living, just to hold it.'

Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins

from Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins ' What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.'

Everything Changes by Cicely Herbert

Everything Changes, after Brecht Alles wandelt sich ,Cicely Herbert ‘ Alles wandelt sich. Neu beginnen Kannst du mit dem letzten Atemzug. Aber was geschehen, ist geschehen. Und das Wasser Das du in den Wein gossest, kannst du Nicht mehr herausschütten. Was geschehen, ist geschehen. Das Wasser Das du in den Wein gossest, kannst du Nicht mehr herausschütten, aber Alles wandelt sich. Neu beginnen Kannst du mit dem letzten Atemzug. Everything changes. We plant trees for those born later but what’s happened has happened, and poisons poured into the seas cannot be drained out again. What’s happened has happened. Poisons poured into the seas cannot be drained out again’, but everything changes. We plant trees for those born later.'

I go inside the tree by Jo Shapcott

I go inside the tree, Jo Shapcott Indoors for this ash is through the bark: notice its colour – asphalt or slate in the rain then go inside, tasting weather in the tree rings, scoffing years of drought and storm, moving as fast as a woodworm who finds a kick of speed for burrowing into the core, for mouthing pith and sap, until the o my god at the heart.

Birch Canoe by Carter Revard

World Poems on the Underground: Birch Canoe, Carter Revard. Red men embraced my body's whiteness, cutting into me carved it free,

from In Memoriam by Alfred Lord Tennyson

from In Memoriam by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Poems on the Underground 1000 years of poetry in English 1999 'Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind.'

from Ecclesiates

King James Bible Ecclesiastes 1 iii-vii 'What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.'

The Undertaking by Louise Gluck

The Undertaking by Louise Glück 'The darkness lifts, imagine, in your lifetime. There you are - cased in clean bark you drift through weaving rushes, fields flooded with cotton. You are free. The river films with lilies, shrubs appear, shoots thicken into palm. And now all fear gives way: the light looks after you, you feel the waves' goodwill as arms widen over the water; Love, the key is turned. Extend yourself - it is the Nile, the sun is shining, everywhere you turn is luck.'

Peace ( after Goethe) by David Constantine

Peace (after Goethe), David Constantine ' For this, the dark, the ceasing of the winds And the sky's gift, the steady rain, And ours to one another, our bodies' happiness,'

Peaceful Waters: Variation by Federico Garcia Lorca tr. Adrian Mitchell

Peaceful Waters: Variation, Frederico Garcia Lorca (1898 - 1936) translated by Adrian Mitchell 'peaceful waters of the air under echo's branches peaceful waters of a pool under a bough laden with stars peaceful waters of your mouth under a forest of kisses'

For My Wife, Reading in Bed by John Glenday

For My Wife, Reading in Bed by John Glenday ' I know we’re living through all the dark we can afford. Thank goodness, then, for this moment’s light and you, holding the night at bay—a hint of frown, those focussed hands, that open book. I’ll match your inward quiet, breath for breath. What else do we have but words and their absences to bind and unfasten the knotwork of the heart; to remind us how mutual and alone we are, how tiny and significant? Whatever it is you are reading now my love, read on. Our lives depend on it.' John Glenday Reprinted by permission of Picador from Selected Poems (2020)

Anon: Westron Wynde

Westron wynde when wylt thou blow, Anon 'Westron wynde when wylt thou blow the small rain down can rain Christ that my love were in my arms and I in my bed again'

Anon tr. Flann O Brien: Season song

Season Song, Anon tr. Flann O Brien ' Here's a song- stags give tongue winter snows summer goes. High cold blow sun is low brief his day seas give spray.'

Anon: The Twa Corbies

The Twa Corbies , Anon 'As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the tither say, ‘Whar sall we gang and dine the day?’ ‘In behint yon auld fail dyke, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair. ‘His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady’s ta’en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet. ‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane, And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een: Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare. ‘Mony a one for him maks mane, But nane sall ken whar he is gane; O’er his white banes, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair.’

Anon tr. Seamus Heaney: from Beowulf

from Beowulf Anon. (10th century or earlier) translated by Seamus Heaney 'Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark, nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him to hear the din of the loud banquet every day in the hall, the harp being struck and the clear song of a skilled poet telling with mastery of man's beginnings, how the Almighty had made the earth a gleaming plain girdled with waters; in His splendour He set the sun and the moon to be earth's lamplight, lanterns for men, and filled the broad lap of the world with branches and leaves; and quickened life in every other thing that moved. '

Anon : The Silver Swan

The Silver Swan, Anon 'The silver swan, who living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat, Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sung her first and last ,and sung no more:'

Anon: I saw a Peacock with a fiery tail

I saw a Peacock with a fiery tail, Anon ' I saw a Peacock with a fiery tail I saw a blazing comet drop down hail I saw a Cloud with Ivy circled round I saw a sturdy Oak creep on the ground I saw a Pismire swallow up a whale I saw a raging Sea brim full of Ale I saw a Venice Glass sixteen foot deep I saw a Well full of men`s tears that weep I saw their eyes all in a flame of fire I saw a House as big as the Moon and higher I saw the sun even in the midst of night I saw the Man that saw this wonderous sight.'

Song from Comus by John Milton

Song from Comus by John Milton ' Sabrina fair Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave ,In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber - dropping hair; Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen and save '.John Milton (1608 - 74) Autograph by Henry Lawes, BL Add Ms 53723, f. 38 © The British Library Board.

The Expulsion from Eden by John Milton

The Expulsion from Eden by John Milton 'In either hand the hastening angel caught Our lingering parents, and to the eastern gate Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast To the subjected plain: then disappeared. They looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand with wand`ring steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.' John Milton (1608 - 74)

On His Blindness by John Milton

On His Blindness, John Milton (1608-74) ' When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, Doth God exact day-labour, light denied? I fondly ask; but Patience to prevent That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts, who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best, his state Is kingly. Thousands o'er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait. '

Holy Sonnet by John Donne

Holy Sonnet, John Donne 'Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor canst thou kill me'

No Man is an Island by John Donne

'No Man is an Island' by John Donne from meditation 17, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions 'No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.'

The Good Morrow by John Donne

The Good Morrow by John Donne (1572-1631) ' I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then, But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den? 'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee. And now good morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room, an everywhere. Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown, Let us possess our world; each hath one, and is one. My face in thine eyes, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; Where can we find two better hemispheres, Without sharp North, without declining West? Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; If our two loves be one, or thou and I Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die. ' Poems on the Underground The British Council. The British Library (Zweig Programme). Designed by Tom Davidson

The Weather’s Cast its Coat of Grey by Charles D’Orleans translated by Oliver Bernard

The weather's cast its cloak of grey by Charles D'Orleans translation Oliver Bernard ' Le temps a laissié son manteau Le temps a laissié son manteau De vent, de froidure et de pluye, Et s’est vêstu de brouderie, De soleil luyant, cler et beau. Il n’y a bêste, ni oyseau Qu’en son jargon ne chante ou crie : Le temps a laissié son manteau. Rivière, fontaine et ruisseau Portent, en livrée jolie, Gouttes d’argent d’orfavrerie, Chascun s’abille de nouveau : Le temps a laissié son manteau. The weather's cast its cloak of grey Woven of wind and cold and rain, And wears embroidered clothes again Of clear sunshine, in fair array. No beast, no bird, but in its way Cries out or sings in wood and plain: The weather's cast its cloak of grey Woven of wind and cold and rain. River and spring and brook this day Wear handsome liveries that feign More silver stars than Charles's Wain, Mingled with drops of golden spray. The weather's cast its cloak of grey.'

Disillusionment of Ten O’ Clock by Wallace Stevens

Disillusionment of Ten O’ Clock, Wallace Stevens ' The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches tigers In red weather.'

from Piers Plowman by William Langland

from Piers Plowman by William Langland (c. 1332-1400) "After sharp showers," said Peace, "the sun shines brightest; No weather is warmer than after watery clouds, Nor any love dearer, or more loving friends Than after war and woe, when Love and Peace are masters. There was never war in this world, or wickedness so keen, That Love, if he liked, could not turn to laughter, And Peace, through patience, put an end to all perils." Illustration "God spede ye plough", Trinity MS R.3.14, f.1v reprinted by permission of the Master and Fellows of Trinity College Cambridge

Swineherd by Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin

Swineherd, Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin ' When all this is over, said the swineherd, I mean to retire, where Nobody will have heard about my special skills And conversation is mainly about the weather. I intend to learn how to make coffee, as least as well As the Portuguese lay-sister in the kitchen And polish the brass fenders every day. I want to lie awake at night Listening to cream crawling to the top of the jug And the water lying soft in the cistern. I want to see an orchard where the trees grow in straight lines And the yellow fox finds shelter between the navy-blue trunks, Where it gets dark early in summer And the apple-blossom is allowed to wither on the bough.'

Prelude 1 by T.S. Eliot

Prelude 1, T.S. Eliot Poems on the Underground 1992 'The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.'

Optimistic Little Poem by Hans Magnus Enzensberger translated by David Constantine

Optimistic Little Poem Hans Magnus Enzensberger tr. David Constantine ' Now and then it happens that somebody shouts for help and somebody else jumps in at once and absolutely gratis. Here in the thick of the grossest capitalism round the corner comes the shining fire brigade and extinguishes, or suddenly there's silver in the beggar's hat. Mornings the streets are full of people hurrying here and there without daggers in their hands, quite equably after milk or radishes. As though in a time of deepest peace. A splendid sight.'

You can see the rest of our poems from 2023 here

You can see our poems from 2022 here

You can find all our poems from 2021 here

You can find all of the poems displayed on our website in 2020 here