classic poem and photo: london by william blake

London

I wander thro' each charter'd street,

Near where the charter'd Thames doth flow,

And mark in every face I meet

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,

In every infant's cry of fear,

In every voice, in every ban,

The mind forg'd manacles I hear.

How the Chimney-sweeper's cry

Every black'ning Church appals,

And the hapless Soldier's sigh

Runs in blood down Palace walls:

But most thro' midnight streets I hear

How the youthful Harlot's curse

Blasts the new-born Infant's tear,

and blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Three nights of rioting. London has been mindlessly smashed and burnt. The ministers and police chiefs have preferred to remain in their luxury holiday villas. Mark Duggan's family is only just now getting answers. And the unsustainable financial system is collapsing.

Lines of poems run through my head. Lines from Yeats's 'The Second Coming', as well as the first verse of this poem by William Blake. 'London' was written in 1793, showing Blake's anger at the economic system and the political ideology. After revolutionary riots, harsh anti-seditious laws were passed, and the army was stationed all over London. Blake himself was later put on trial for 'uttering treasonable words'.  

Ominous times.

The image is of the Great Fire of London, 1666.

classic poem and photo: the diary of murasaki shikibu

Painting: Sweet Flowers Soaring High by Lea Prince

"I can see the garden from my room beside the entrance to the gallery. The air is misty, the dew is still on the leaves. The Lord Prime Minister is walking there; he orders his men to cleanse the brook. He breaks off a stalk of omenaishi [flower maiden] which is in full bloom by the south end of the bridge. He peeps in over my screen! His noble appearance embarrasses us, and I am ashamed of my morning [not yet painted and powdered] face. He says, "Your poem on this! If you delay so much the fun is gone!"  and I seize the chance to run away to the writing-box, hiding my face–

Flower-maiden in bloom–

Even more beautiful for the bright dew,

Which is partial, and never favors me.

"So prompt!" said he, smiling, and ordered a writing-box to be brought [for himself].

His answer:


The silver dew is never partial.

From her heart

The flower-maiden's beauty. "

From 'The Diary of Murasaki Shikibu'. Shikibu was a lady of the Japanese court during A.D. 1007-1010.

The entire diary can be found here.

Reading this diary several years ago, I was fascinated by the diarist's world, and was delighted to discover an early woman poet!

Lea Prince's paintings have been exhibited at Ilford Central Library and at the Valentine's Mansion, Gantshill.