POLL! Favorite Halloween Song?
Oct. 26th, 2005 07:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eldritchhobbitThanks to all who participated in my Scary Reading Poll yesterday. Everyone gave a completely different answer, which was great fun. I have a terrific list of Halloween reading! Today I have a new question for you...
[Poll #598589]
Today's quote is another haunting poem by J.R.R. Tolkien. It's called "The Sea-Bell," and is often referred to as "Frodo's Dreme." It is, I think, a thoroughly haunting piece. The last line always moves me. To quote Simon Tam, "This must be what going mad feels like."
I walked by the sea, and there came to me,
as a star-beam on the wet sand,
a white shell like a sea-bell;
trembling it lay in my wet hand.
In my fingers shaken I heard waken
a ding within, by a harbour bar
a buoy swinging, a call ringing
over endless seas, faint now and far.
Then I saw a boat silently float
on the night-tide, empty and grey.
'It is later than late! Why do we wait?'
I leapt in and cried: 'Bear me away!'
It bore me away, wetted with spray,
wrapped in a mist, wound in a sleep,
to a forgotten strand in a strange land.
In the twilight beyond the deep
I heard a sea-bell swing in the swell,
dinging, dinging, and the breakers roar
on the hidden teeth of a perilous reef;
and at last I came to a long shore.
White it glimmered, and the sea simmered
with star-mirrors in a silver net;
cliffs of stone pale as ruel-bone
in the moon-foam were gleaming wet.
Glittering sand slid through my hand,
dust of pearl and jewel-grist,
trumpets of opal, roses of coral,
flutes of green and amethyst.
But under cliff-eaves there were glooming caves,
weed-curtained, dark and grey;
a cold air stirred in my hair,
and the light waned, as I hurried away.
Down from a hill ran a green rill;
its water I drank to my heart's ease.
Up its fountain-stair to a country fair
of ever-eve I came, far from the seas,
climbing into meadows of fluttering shadows:
flowers lay there like fallen stars,
and on a blue pool, glassy and cool,
like floating moons the nenuphars.
Alders were sleeping, and willows weeping
by a slow river of rippling weeds;
gladdon-swords guarded the fords,
and green spears, and arrow-reeds.
There was echo of song all the evening long
down in the valley; many a thing
running to and fro: hares white as snow,
voles out of holes; moths on the wing
with lantern-eyes; in quiet surprise
brocks were staring out of dark doors.
I heard dancing there, music in the air,
feet going quick on the green floors.
But wherever I came it was ever the same:
the feet fled, and all was still;
never a greeting, only the fleeting
pipes, voices, horns on the hill.
Of river-leaves and the rush-sheaves
I made me a mantle of jewel-green,
a tall wand to hold, and a flag of gold;
my eyes shone like the star-sheen.
With flowers crowned I stood on a mound,
and shrill as a call at cock-crow
proudly I cried: 'Why do you hide?
Why do none speak, wherever I go?
Here now I stand, king of this land,
with gladdon-sword and reed-mace.
Answer my call! Come forth all!
Speak to me words! Show me a face!'
Black came a cloud as a night-shroud.
Like a dark mole groping I went,
to the ground falling, on my hands crawling
with eyes blind and my back bent.
I crept to a wood: silent it stood
in its dead leaves; bare were its boughs.
There must I sit, wandering in wit,
while owls snored in their hollow house.
For a year and a day there must I stay:
beetles were tapping in the rotten trees,
spiders were weaving, in the mould heaving
puffballs loomed about my knees.
At last there came light in my long night,
and I saw my hair hanging grey.
'Bent though I be, I must find the sea!
I have lost myself, and I know not the way,
but let me be gone!' Then I stumbled on;
like a hunting bat shadow was over me;
in my ears dinned a withering wind,
and with ragged briars I tried to cover me.
My hands were torn and my knees worn,
and years were heavy upon my back,
when the rain in my face took a salt taste,
and I smelled the smell of sea-wrack.
Birds came sailing, mewing, wailing;
I heard voices in cold caves,
seals barking, and rocks snarling,
and in spout-holes the gulping of waves.
Winter came fast; into a mist I passed,
to land's end my years I bore;
snow was in the air, ice in my hair,
darkness was lying on the last shore.
There still afloat waited the boat,
in the tide lifting, its prow tossing.
Weary I lay, as it bore me away,
the waves climbing, the seas crossing,
passing old hulls clustered with gulls
and great ships laden with light,
coming to haven, dark as a raven,
silent as snow, deep in the night.
Houses were shuttered, wind round them muttered,
roads were empty. I sat by a door,
and where drizzling rain poured down a drain
I cast away all that I bore:
in my clutching hand some grains of sand,
and a sea-shell silent and dead.
Never will my ear that bell hear,
never my feet that shore tread
Never again, as in sad lane,
in blind alley and in long street
ragged I walk. To myself I talk;
for still they speak not, men that I meet.
"The Sea-Bell," from "The Adventures of Tom Bombadil," by J.R.R. Tolkien
[Poll #598589]
Today's quote is another haunting poem by J.R.R. Tolkien. It's called "The Sea-Bell," and is often referred to as "Frodo's Dreme." It is, I think, a thoroughly haunting piece. The last line always moves me. To quote Simon Tam, "This must be what going mad feels like."
I walked by the sea, and there came to me,
as a star-beam on the wet sand,
a white shell like a sea-bell;
trembling it lay in my wet hand.
In my fingers shaken I heard waken
a ding within, by a harbour bar
a buoy swinging, a call ringing
over endless seas, faint now and far.
Then I saw a boat silently float
on the night-tide, empty and grey.
'It is later than late! Why do we wait?'
I leapt in and cried: 'Bear me away!'
It bore me away, wetted with spray,
wrapped in a mist, wound in a sleep,
to a forgotten strand in a strange land.
In the twilight beyond the deep
I heard a sea-bell swing in the swell,
dinging, dinging, and the breakers roar
on the hidden teeth of a perilous reef;
and at last I came to a long shore.
White it glimmered, and the sea simmered
with star-mirrors in a silver net;
cliffs of stone pale as ruel-bone
in the moon-foam were gleaming wet.
Glittering sand slid through my hand,
dust of pearl and jewel-grist,
trumpets of opal, roses of coral,
flutes of green and amethyst.
But under cliff-eaves there were glooming caves,
weed-curtained, dark and grey;
a cold air stirred in my hair,
and the light waned, as I hurried away.
Down from a hill ran a green rill;
its water I drank to my heart's ease.
Up its fountain-stair to a country fair
of ever-eve I came, far from the seas,
climbing into meadows of fluttering shadows:
flowers lay there like fallen stars,
and on a blue pool, glassy and cool,
like floating moons the nenuphars.
Alders were sleeping, and willows weeping
by a slow river of rippling weeds;
gladdon-swords guarded the fords,
and green spears, and arrow-reeds.
There was echo of song all the evening long
down in the valley; many a thing
running to and fro: hares white as snow,
voles out of holes; moths on the wing
with lantern-eyes; in quiet surprise
brocks were staring out of dark doors.
I heard dancing there, music in the air,
feet going quick on the green floors.
But wherever I came it was ever the same:
the feet fled, and all was still;
never a greeting, only the fleeting
pipes, voices, horns on the hill.
Of river-leaves and the rush-sheaves
I made me a mantle of jewel-green,
a tall wand to hold, and a flag of gold;
my eyes shone like the star-sheen.
With flowers crowned I stood on a mound,
and shrill as a call at cock-crow
proudly I cried: 'Why do you hide?
Why do none speak, wherever I go?
Here now I stand, king of this land,
with gladdon-sword and reed-mace.
Answer my call! Come forth all!
Speak to me words! Show me a face!'
Black came a cloud as a night-shroud.
Like a dark mole groping I went,
to the ground falling, on my hands crawling
with eyes blind and my back bent.
I crept to a wood: silent it stood
in its dead leaves; bare were its boughs.
There must I sit, wandering in wit,
while owls snored in their hollow house.
For a year and a day there must I stay:
beetles were tapping in the rotten trees,
spiders were weaving, in the mould heaving
puffballs loomed about my knees.
At last there came light in my long night,
and I saw my hair hanging grey.
'Bent though I be, I must find the sea!
I have lost myself, and I know not the way,
but let me be gone!' Then I stumbled on;
like a hunting bat shadow was over me;
in my ears dinned a withering wind,
and with ragged briars I tried to cover me.
My hands were torn and my knees worn,
and years were heavy upon my back,
when the rain in my face took a salt taste,
and I smelled the smell of sea-wrack.
Birds came sailing, mewing, wailing;
I heard voices in cold caves,
seals barking, and rocks snarling,
and in spout-holes the gulping of waves.
Winter came fast; into a mist I passed,
to land's end my years I bore;
snow was in the air, ice in my hair,
darkness was lying on the last shore.
There still afloat waited the boat,
in the tide lifting, its prow tossing.
Weary I lay, as it bore me away,
the waves climbing, the seas crossing,
passing old hulls clustered with gulls
and great ships laden with light,
coming to haven, dark as a raven,
silent as snow, deep in the night.
Houses were shuttered, wind round them muttered,
roads were empty. I sat by a door,
and where drizzling rain poured down a drain
I cast away all that I bore:
in my clutching hand some grains of sand,
and a sea-shell silent and dead.
Never will my ear that bell hear,
never my feet that shore tread
Never again, as in sad lane,
in blind alley and in long street
ragged I walk. To myself I talk;
for still they speak not, men that I meet.
"The Sea-Bell," from "The Adventures of Tom Bombadil," by J.R.R. Tolkien
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 02:14 pm (UTC)Though, now that I think of it, there's a song by the Medieval Baebes that reminds me of this time of year every time I hear it (because that's when I was obsessed with it). I'm sure you've heard "Through the Glass Window"? Not too sure how Halloween-ish it is, but there ya go. :-)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 12:24 am (UTC)I think my favourite is "Into the Labyrinth" ... and you?
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:29 am (UTC)Dead Can Dance
Date: 2005-10-28 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 03:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 04:15 pm (UTC)*calming breath*
Thanks. :-)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-26 04:38 pm (UTC)Also, George Winston's "December" album is the same way for me... Thanksgiving favorite, but start playing around now.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:10 pm (UTC)Hello
Date: 2005-10-26 11:03 pm (UTC)Re: Hello
Date: 2005-10-27 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 03:12 am (UTC)just wondering if you're doing "Thanksgiving" for Nov and "Christmas" for December. I'm so loving your theme posts. and, really, have you anything better to do than entertain your flist? :P
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 09:19 pm (UTC)LOL! I'm so glad you're enjoying them! Honestly, it's 1) a sanity-saving device so my every waking thought isn't about this pending conference, and 2) it's my favorite holiday. So I'm having fun. I may make some Christmas posts. (But hopefully my sanity won't be in quite such danger then!) As for Thanksgiving, I appreciate the abstract sentiment behind why many people observe it, but for a variety of historical reasons (national mostly, not personal), I don't. I'm not militant or banner-waving about it, but it's not a holiday for me. We will be using the break this year to visit my family in Oklahoma, but they'll be focusing on my birthday, so I can't complain about their holiday priorities. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:03 pm (UTC)ok, next time I promise to think about what I say. hmmm. made me think, though, how separated these holidays are (in my mind) from their raison d'etre.
*wanders off looking ever so sheepish*
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:45 pm (UTC)it's our lot in life. *shoulders heavy burden*
nah. as if! your eccentricities are contagious. they're the avian flu of the LJ world. warms the cockles of this cynical black duck's heart. ♥
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:38 pm (UTC)lol. never! you're one of the most IDICy folks I know so I'd never need to. you don't seem to do the LJ-Rant (TM pending). do you keep a gargantuan pot of bile handy somewhere else...? ;) I somehow doubt it.
I didn't think you prickly at all. I just thought me foolish (this happens more than occasionally, I'll have you know). :P
and it was on a US series (of course!) when I first learned about "tofurkey". and I couldn't stop laughing.