Poems on the Underground July 2022

‘My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings:                                                                                 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!’

We are delighted to offer tube travellers a new summer set of poems.

The poems will circulate on London Underground and Overground trains for 4 weeks from July 18th.

Shelley’s sonnet Ozymandias, inspired by the Egyptian ruins at the British Museum, marks the bicentenary of the poet’s death on July 8th, 1822, aged 29.

Our international theme continues with famous lines by the 17th century Dean of St Pauls, John Donne: ‘No man is an island, entire of itself…’

Also featured: ‘Caterpillar’ by Guillaume Apollinaire, in a new version by the British poet and translator Robert Chandler.

An extract from War of the Beasts and the Animals by the dissident Russian poet Maria Stepanova, translated by Sasha Dugdale.  

‘Ditches’ by the Irish poet Jessica Traynor.

‘Dei Miracole’ by the popular poet, playwright and broadcaster Lemn Sissay.

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley 'I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings: Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

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.'

Caterpillar La Chenille by Guillaume Apollinaire, translated by Robert Chandler

La Chenille Caterpillar by Guillaume Apollinaire, tr Robert Chandler 'La Chenille Le travail mène à la richesse. Pauvres poètes, travaillons! La chenille en peinant sans cesse Devient le riche papillon. Caterpillar Work hard, poets, work with good cheer: Work leads to wealth and freedom from fear; And butterflies, for all their graces, Are merely caterpillars who persevere. ' Reprinted by permission of Robert Chandler from Guillaume Apollinaire, Poems, translated by Robert Chandler (Everyman 2000)

from War of the Beasts and the Animals by Maria Stepanova, translated by Sasha Dugdale

from War of the Beasts and the Animals by Maria Stepanova, tr. Sasha Dugdale ' on the twenty-second of june at four o’clock on the dot I won’t be listening to anything I’ll have my eyes shut I’ll bury the foreign broadcast It’s the news but I won’t lift a hand If anyone comes I’m out of the loop I’m a sparrow I’m no man’s land' Reprinted by permission of Bloodaxe Books from Maria Stepanova, War of the Beasts and the Animals, trans. Sasha Dugdale (2021)

Ditches by Jessica Traynor

Ditches by Jessica Traynor ' So many songs I could sing you, spread fields of lavender for you to crush in your fists. But there are things more potent than the peaches and plums in your story books, there are shadows in the ditch that know your name. Sit with me – I’ll teach you theirs.' Reprinted by permission of Bloodaxe Books from Pit Lullabies (2022)

‘Dei Miracole’ by Lemn Sissay

Dei Miracole by Lemn Sissay ' The spirit of structure can’t be foreseen, For somewhere between The architecture and the dream More than the sum of its parts Somehow, somewhere, the heart.' Copyright Listener by Lemn Sissay, 2008. First published in Great Britain by Canongate Books Ltd.

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,

RIP Carter Revard 1931-2022

This month we mark the bicentenary of Shelley’s death on July 8th,1822, focussing on his belief in poetry as an agent of social and political change. Shelley’s poems have been an important part of Poems on the Underground from Ozymandias in our first set of Poems in 1986 to Ode to the West Wind, which appeared in our most recent set of poems in 2022.

Poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Ozymandias

Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems on the Underground Poster January 1986 'I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said : Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is OZYMANDIAS, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

To Emilia V –

To Emilia V - by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory - Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed - And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on... Manuscript reproduced by permission of the Bodleian Library University of Oxford, MS. Shelley Adds. e.8, p.154 Poems on the Underground

The World’s Great Age Begins Anew (Chorus from Hellas)

P. B. Shelley, The World’s Great Age Begins Anew 'The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew her winter weeds outworn:'

With a Guitar To Jane

With a Guitar To Jane, P.B. Shelley 'Ariel to Miranda:- Take This slave of music for the sake Of him who is the slave of thee; And teach it all the harmony, In which thou canst, and only thou, Make the delighted spirit glow,'

from ‘Adonais’

from Adonais, Percy Bysshe Shelley He is made one with Nature: there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder, to the song of night’s sweet bird; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where’er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own; Which wields the world with never wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.

from Ode to the West Wind     

from Ode to the West Wind by Percy Bysshe Shelley 'Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened Earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?'

Poems of Social and Political Change

Lines from Endymion by John Keats

from Endymion by John Keats ( 1795-1821) Poems on the Underground 1991 ' A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.'

Anti-Slavery Movements by Benjamin Zephaniah

Anti-Slavery Movements. Benjamin Zephaniah 'Some people say Animal liberators are not Working in the interest of animals. But I've never seen liberated animals Protest by going back to their place Of captivity. But then again I've never heard of any liberated slaves Begging for more humiliation Or voting for slavery. Animals vote with their feet Or their wings Or their fins.

Much Madness is Divinest Sense by Emily Dickinson

Much Madness is Divinest Sense, Emily Dickinson, Much Madness is divinest Sense- To a discerning Eye- Much Sense- the starkest Madness- 'Tis the Majority In this, as All, Prevail- Assent- and you are sane- Demur- you're straightway dangerous- And handled with a Chain-''

Ourstory by Carole Satyamurti

Carole Satyamurti , Ourstory ' Let us now praise women with feet glass slippers wouldn't fit; not the patient, nor even the embittered ones who kept their place'

Monopoly by Paul Farley

Monopoly by Paul Farley ' We sat like slum landlords around the board buying each other out with fake banknotes, until we lost more than we could afford, or ever hope to pay back. Now our seats are empty - one by one we left the game in this other world, its building sites, its rain; but slowly learned the rules or made our own, stayed out of jail and kept our noses clean. And now there's only me - sole freeholder of every empty office space in town, and from the quayside I can count the cost each low tide brings - the skeletons and rust of boats, cars, hats, boots, iron, a terrier.'

Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon

Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon Poems on the Underground 1999 poster 'Everyone suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on - on - and out of sight. Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.'

The Boundary Commission by Paul Muldoon

The Boundary Commission by Paul Muldoon (b.1951) ' You remember that village where the border ran Down the middle of the street, With the butcher and baker in different states? Today he remarked how a shower of rain Had stopped so cleanly across Golightly's lane, It might have been a wall of glass That had toppled over. He stood there, for ages, To wonder which side, if any, he should be on. '

Chorus from a Play by John Dryden

Chorus from a Play written in the year 1700 by John Dryden (1631 -1700) ' All, all, of a piece throughout; Thy chase had a beast in view; Thy wars brought nothing about; Thy lovers were all untrue. 'Tis well an old age is out, And time to begin a new. ' Poems on the Underground The British Library (Zweig Programme) London Arts Board. Design Tom Davidson

Jerusalem by William Blake

Jerusalem by William Blake 'And did those feet in ancient time, Walk upon England's mountains green: And was the holy Lamb of God, On England's pleasant pastures seen! And did the Countenance Divine, Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold; Bring me my Arrows of desire: Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold: Bring me my Chariot of fire: I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand: Till we have built Jerusalem, In England's green & pleasant Land'.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas ' Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'

Mapping the New World– Poems of Sea and Sail

Map of the New World: Archipelagoes by Derek Walcott

Map of the New World: Archipelagoes , Derek Walcott ' At the end of this sentence, rain will begin. At the rain's edge, a sail. Slowly the sail will lose sight of islands; into a mist will go the belief in harbours of an entire race. The ten-years war is finished. Helen's hair, a grey cloud. Troy, a white ashpit by the drizzling sea. The drizzle tightens like the strings of a harp. A man with clouded eyes picks up the rain and plucks the first line of the Odyssey.'

Ariel’s Song by William Shakespeare

Ariel's Song (from The Tempest), William Shakespeare ( 1564-1616) Illustration by Arthur Rackham Poems on the Underground Poster 1993 Poster 'Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made: Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich, and strange: Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell- Hark! now I hear them, Ding-dong, bell.'

Where Go the Boats? by Robert Louis Stevenson

Where Go The Boats? by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94) ' Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating -Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill. Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore .' Illustrations by A.H. Watson from A Child's Garden of Verses Collins 1946 Poems on the Underground The British Council. The British Library (Zweig Programme). designed by Tom Davidson

The world is too much with us by William Wordsworth

'The world is too much with us' by William Wordsworth (1770-1850) ' The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The Winds that will be howling at all hours And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for every thing, we are out of tune; It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus coming from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. ' Poems on the Underground The British Council. The British Library (Zweig Programme). Designed by Tom Davidson.

True Stories [1] by Margaret Atwood

True Stories (1) by Margaret Atwood 'Don't ask for the true story; why do you need it? It's not what I set out with or what I carry. What I'm sailing with, a knife, blue fire, luck, a few good words that still work, and the tide. '

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea by Stephen Knight

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea by Stephen Knight (b. 1960) 'The trick (he tells me) is to sleep till twelve then watch the television. In the corner of his murky bedroom there is always a swirl of colour: T-shirts; smoke threading from an ashtray to the light; shoes; anemones thriving on the wreck of the Torrey Canyon; our Chancellor raising the Budget Box.' Reprinted by permission of Bloodaxe from Flowering Limbs(1993)

Cargoes by John Masefield

Cargoes by John Masefield 'Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus, Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores, With a cargo of diamonds, Emeralds, amethysts, Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores. Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack, Butting through the Channel in the mad March days, With a cargo of Tyne coal, Road-rails, pig-lead, Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.'

Wedding by Alice Oswald

Wedding by Alice Oswald 'From time to time our love is like a sail and when the sail begins to alternate from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat; and if the coat is yours, it has a tear like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter and when the trumpet blows, it blows like millions… and this, my love, when millions come and go beyond the need of us, is like a trick; and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck; and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding, which is like love, which is like everything.'

You can see our Poems from June 2022 here