![]() Having read it once, I could not restrain myself re-reading it. It is only in the recent past that I managed to complete the reading. ![]() I have come across a snippet of this poem while reading William Woodruffe’s “Beyond Nab End” and ever since wanted to read the poem in its totality. I also believe that no subject matter is undeserving of being treated in poetical terms – else how can a bleak subject like the experience of watching the hanging of a murderer prompt Oscar Wilde into writing that wonderful poem “The Ballad of Reading Gaol” ? Poetry therefore to me is the precious medium through which the specificity of an incident, an observation, a scenery or landscape starts to acquire a transcendental dimension appreciated by people who are not even remotely connected to these subject matters. It is this inexplicable fulfilment and stirring that is so appealing in poetry. Through this touching and tugging, the reader is transported into a plane where the incomplete aspects of ones self awareness start to become complete. It was Eliot who once made the profound observation that genuine poetry can communicate even before it is understood. Poetry touches and tugs deep slumbering feelings and emotions that we are not even conscious of. ![]()
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