07 January 2008

Stevie Smith - Our Bog is Dood

Everyone knows the Stevie Smith line, 'Not waving but drowning', don't they? Even if they don't know the whole poem? Even if they don't realise it is also the title of that piece?

I mentioned it a couple of posts ago, and having found a link to it, had a quick look at what else there was.

There was this.

It got to me, and I can't understand why it isn't just as famous as the other one.


Stevie Smith - Our Bog is Dood

Our Bog is dood, our Bog is dood,
They lisped in accents mild,
But when I asked them to explain
They grew a little wild.
How do you know your Bog is dood
My darling little child?

We know because we wish it so
That is enough, they cried,
And straight within each infant eye
Stood up the flame of pride,
And if you do not think it so
You shall be crucified.

Then tell me, darling little ones,
What's dood, suppose Bog is?
Just what we think, the answer came,
Just what we think it is.
They bowed their heads. Our Bog is ours
And we are wholly his.

But when they raised them up again
They had forgotten me
Each one upon each other glared
In pride and misery
For what was dood, and what their Bog
They never could agree.

Oh sweet it was to leave them then,
And sweeter not to see,
And sweetest of all to walk alone
Beside the encroaching sea,
The sea that soon should drown them all,
That never yet drowned me.

3 comments:

Josephine said...

Yep, a great poet, love the poem. Have you read 'The Bell Jar'?

Come over sometime, hon. I think you can still get in...if not, I'll reinvite you.
Jo x

Absolute Vanilla (& Atyllah) said...

Oh that's brilliant!

fineartist said...

Oh Cheryl I had never heard of nor read this piece, but it made me laugh my head off in a sicko sad way, that's me, sicko sad.

What a frappin hoot, "Oh look so and so's waving at us, wave back dear." What kind a crappy luck is that?

I love it!