Leon Gellert
The island sleeps,-but it has no delight
For em, to whom that sleep has been unkind.
My thoughts are long of what seems long ago,
And long, too, are my dreams. I do not know
These trailing glories of the star-strewn night
Or the slow sough of the wind.
I hear the rattle of the moving car;
The children crying in the lighted street,
I walk along the same old asphalt way.
I see the church,-I hear the organ play.
I see the hills I wandered on afar,
And spots of rain at my feet.
I see the dust-strewn hedge,-the latched gate;
The gravelled path with roses either side;
The cedar tree,-my mother’s window pane.
I see the place where I sat long and late
By the trellis deep and wide.
The red Virginia crumbles at the wall.
The bed is bare where winter’s snow-drops grew.
I feel my dog come licking at my hand.
I pause awhile beside the door, I stand.
And hear the well-known footsteps softly fall
And the voices that I knew.
I slowly creep and peep beneath the blind.
-My father reads his book within his chair.
Some children play their game of dominoes.
My mother sits beside the fire and sews;
Her head is bowed. I know her eyes are kind
By the grey lines in her hair.
I tap the pane to see those tears unshed.
I see all turn, and watch them sadly stirred
By the sound, and peer to see my face without.
They see, and smile, I hear no welcome shout.
They sit and gaze as they that see the dead,
But no one says a word.
The island sleeps. May sleep come soon to me,
And lull these dreams within my shaken mind;
-These dreams that tell me I have seen the last
of those I left so,-loved so in the past.
* * *
I hear the murmur of the moving sea,
And the murmur of the wind.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem is a poignant exploration of loss, memory, and the blurred line between dream and reality. The speaker is trapped in a state of restless longing, looking back at a life and a world that feel increasingly distant. The island, where the speaker seems to be, serves as both a literal and metaphorical setting for isolation and reflection. It’s a place where sleep, a natural means of escape, offers no solace, and the mind is left to wander through memories and dreams.
The opening lines immediately establish a sense of disconnection. The island “sleeps,” but the speaker feels alienated from it. Sleep, often a restorative and peaceful force, has become unkind, as the speaker cannot find rest in either the waking world or in dreams. This sets the tone for the rest of the poem, where memories of the past become a haunting presence rather than a source of comfort.
The speaker’s thoughts drift toward the past, to a time and place that seem distant yet vivid. The juxtaposition between the “long” thoughts and dreams reflects a sense of disorientation, where time seems to stretch and blur. The speaker is caught in a longing for something lost, something that no longer exists in the present. The “trailing glories of the star-strewn night” and the “slow sough of the wind” evoke images of natural beauty, yet the speaker cannot fully engage with or appreciate these surroundings. Instead, they are absorbed in thoughts of home, childhood, and family.
The middle of the poem shifts from the general to the specific as the speaker recounts familiar scenes and places. The rattle of the car, the children crying, the church organ playing—these are sensory details that root the poem in a recognizable, everyday world. Yet, as the speaker continues, there is a profound sense of alienation. The streets, the church, the hills—everything that was once familiar has now become a ghostly presence, as though the speaker is watching these scenes from a distance, unable to participate in them.
The imagery of the speaker walking “the same old asphalt way” and seeing the church and hills “afar” suggests a longing for the past that can never be fully realized. The speaker’s return to these familiar places, such as the “dust-strewn hedge” and the “latched gate,” is bittersweet. They are steeped in nostalgia, but the past cannot be reclaimed. The mother’s window, the place where the speaker once sat by the trellis, the dog licking at the hand—all of these images bring the past to life but also highlight the inescapable distance that now exists between the speaker and the life they once knew.
In the latter part of the poem, the speaker ventures even further into their memories, witnessing scenes of family life: the father reading, the children playing, the mother sewing. These images are rich with love and warmth, yet there is a sense of finality to them. The speaker observes these moments, but they are no longer part of them. The family is aware of the speaker’s presence but is unable to interact. The speaker describes the family as “sitting and gazing as they that see the dead,” indicating that they are no longer fully part of the living world. The “no one says a word” is a powerful line, emphasizing the silence that surrounds death and the separation between the living and the dead.
The closing lines return to the imagery of the island, sleep, and the sea. The speaker yearns for sleep to come and end the torment of these vivid dreams and memories. Yet, there is a sense that this sleep will not bring peace—it is simply a means of escaping the pain. The sea and wind are present, but they are distant and murmuring, adding to the sense of solitude. The final lines leave us with a feeling of melancholy, as the speaker is trapped in a cycle of memory and loss.
The poem’s structure mirrors the speaker’s fragmented state of mind. The lines flow like a stream of consciousness, with vivid memories blending into one another, not in a chronological order but in a haze of emotional longing. The shifts between past and present, dream and waking life, create a disorienting effect, as the speaker moves between two worlds—the one they once knew and the one they now inhabit. This blending of the past and present emphasizes the theme of loss, as the speaker cannot find peace in either.
In conclusion, this poem is a meditation on the sorrow of memory and the pain of separation. It captures the feeling of being haunted by the past, of trying to return to a world that no longer exists, and the inability to find rest in either the waking or the dreaming world. The island and the sleep it represents symbolize both a desire for peace and the frustration of never being able to fully escape the past. It is a poignant reflection on the distance that grows between ourselves and the people, places, and experiences we once held dear.