Nature's first and
last green is gold
The hue to which all life is beholden
With eyes open or
closed the warmth
Within and without unfolds
From seed to flower
to sheaf
Howsoever it may seem
brief
We are transported beyond
The confines of a single
season
As from dawn to dusk
to dawn
It is gold alone that endures
Vincent van Gogh, Soir d'été, 1888. |
This poem is in reply to Robert Frost's poem which I have copied below. Much as I admire Frost's poem I think he rather misses the point, which Van Gogh captured on a summer night altogether much more clearly.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf’s a flower
But only so an hour
Then leaf subsides to leaf
So Eden sank to grief;
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay
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