The phrase ‘One Day’ set me thinking of a poem by Alun Lewis whose work I’d recently been re-reading, and try as I might I can’t get it out of my mind. One Day is not the same as All Day, yet the two phrases seemed to fuse. The Lewis poem, All Day It Has Rained, is about one day in the life of a group of soldiers stationed in Hampshire, during the Great War.
All Day It Has Rained
This is one of Lewis’s greatest poems, one of the great World War 1 poems even if guns and five-nines aren’t even mentioned. The wealth of observation and the matter-of-fact vocabulary lifts the poem from the everyday: nothing about the poem is predictable, from the down to earth vocabulary to rhythm and metre.
And now I shall have to read something else to get it out of my mind!
Here is the first part of the poem. If you don’t know it and would like to read the rest of it, it can be found online.
All Day It Has Rained
All day it has rained, and we on the edge of the moors
Have sprawled in our bell-tents, moody and dull as boors,
Groundsheets and blankets spread on the muddy ground
And from the first grey wakening we have found
No refuge from the skirmishing fine rain
And the wind that made the canvas heave and flap
And the taut wet guy-ropes ravel out and snap.
All day the rain has glided, wave and mist and dream,
Drenching the gorse and heather, a gossamer stream
Too light to stir the acorns that suddenly
Snatched from their cups by the wild south-westerly
Pattered against the tent and our upturned dreaming faces.
And we stretched out, unbuttoning our braces,
Smoking a Woodbine, darning dirty socks,
Reading the Sunday papers – I saw a fox
And mentioned it in the note I scribbled home; –
And we talked of girls and dropping bombs on Rome,
And thought of the quiet dead and the loud celebrities
Exhorting us to slaughter, and the herded refugees:
…….
Tomorrow maybe love; but now it is the rain
Possesses us entirely, the twilight and the rain.
MARI'S TRAVELS WITH HER CAMERA 