Charles Sorley
There is such cry in all these birds,
More than can ever be express’d;
If I should put it into words,
You would agree it were not best
To wake such wonder from its rest.
But since to-night the world is still
And only they and I astir,
We are united, will to will,
By bondage tighter, tenderer
Than any lovers ever were.
And if, of too much labouring.
All that I see around should die
(There is such sleep in each green thing,
Such weariness in all the sky),
We would live on, these birds and I.
Yet how? since everything must pass
At evening with the sinking sun,
And Christ is gone, and Barabbas,
Judas and Jesus, gone, clean gone,
Then how shall I live on?
Yet surely, Judas must have heard
Amidst his torments the long cry
Of some lone Israelitish bird,
And on it, ere he went to die,
Thrown all his spirit’s agony.
And that immortal cry which welled
For Judas, ever afterwards
Passion on passion still has swelled
And sweetened, till to-night these birds
Will take my words, will take my words,
And wrapping them in music meet
Will sing their spirit through the sky,
Strange and unsatisfied and sweet–
That, when stock-dead am I, am I,
O, these will never die!
_July 1913_
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem delves deeply into the idea of connection, suffering, and immortality, exploring themes of life, death, and the eternal nature of certain emotions. The speaker reflects on the intense, almost mystical bond shared with the birds, capturing a feeling of unity that transcends time and place. The birds, which might initially seem like simple creatures of the natural world, are elevated to symbolic figures carrying the weight of profound emotion and experience.
The opening lines express that the cry of the birds is too powerful, too indescribable to be put into words. There’s a reverence for this cry, a recognition that some things in life are better left unspoken, untouched by human language, so as not to disrupt their inherent wonder. However, in this quiet night where only the birds and the speaker are awake, there is an intimacy between them, a connection stronger than any romantic love. The speaker acknowledges the power of this bond, a shared solitude, a tenderness that is perhaps not entirely understood but deeply felt.
The poem then moves into a darker, more contemplative space. The speaker reflects on the inevitable passing of time, of death, and the weariness that seems to inhabit everything—the earth, the sky, and even the figures of religious history. The mention of Christ, Barabbas, Judas, and Jesus introduces a poignant moment of loss and longing, questioning how life can continue in a world so full of death and absence. The speaker seems to grapple with the question of what sustains the soul when everything around it fades. There’s a sense of hopelessness, a deep ache for meaning and continuation.
Yet, in this moment of despair, the birds become a form of salvation. The speaker imagines Judas—an embodiment of betrayal and agony—hearing the call of a bird amidst his torment, perhaps finding some small solace in its cry. This idea extends into the present moment, where the speaker believes that the birds will carry his own words, wrapping them in music, and sending them into the sky. The birds, eternal in their flight, become a vehicle for the speaker’s emotions, for the cry of humanity—strange, unsatisfied, but beautiful. The suggestion is that, even when the speaker is gone, the birds will continue, carrying the weight of his spirit and his unfulfilled longing.
The final lines offer a sense of immortality that transcends human existence. The birds will continue to sing, to embody the essence of the speaker’s words and spirit, long after he is gone. The promise that “these will never die” is both a comfort and a haunting reality. It’s the idea that while human life is fragile and fleeting, there are aspects of our existence—our emotions, our pain, our joys—that may endure in unexpected forms, like the song of the birds.
This poem is a meditation on the eternal nature of suffering and beauty, the ways in which we seek connection to something larger than ourselves, and the hope that, even in death, there may be some aspect of us that continues, just as the birds’ song continues long after the day has ended. The bond between the speaker and the birds is both tender and sorrowful, suggesting that in moments of deep contemplation and despair, nature might offer us a kind of communion and solace that words alone cannot provide.