At Half past Three, a single Bird
Unto a silent Sky
Propounded but a single term
Of cautious melody.
At Half past Four, Experiment
Had subjugated test
And lo, Her silver Principle
Supplanted all the rest.
At Half past Seven, Element
Nor Implement, be seen —
And Place was where the Presence was
Here is my take on this poem. I offer it humbly; as to me behind every pair of eyes there is an unknown universe. Every minds eye a different interpretation depending on the nature of aforesaid universe. I think Baron Von Baron’s universe is amazing but I don’t see it as I am likened to wander off or to have been flung into one entirely different.
What I see is the temporal stages of a person’s life laid out and the sense of wonder shifted according to the time of a persons life.
Half-past three- ( early on but late enough to look up and and around and be cautious- transition from innocence. The single bird being simplicity in a silent sky with no other birds to distract. The word propounded used in the sense of a proposal and not necessarily solid intent.
Half-past four. ( a short time later, in comparison to the span of time to the next verse) experience is conquered ( subjugated ) by experiment which dismisses ( supplanted ) all other approaches to experience.
Half-past Seven suggests (to my minds eye) evening or latter in the day relative to a span of a lifetime. The mystery of how a bounding line
( circumference ) which limits by its very nature can be found between. Everything ( element or implement ) vanished from the earlier perspective.
I like to think “her silver principle” was transformed into gold.
Knowledge can sometimes be a chain by which we are bound but all it takes is a little wonder to set us free.- Fragscap Napoli
What it means is clear as day. I don’t understand why it seems to confuse people because she could not have been more clear on what the meaning is and her part in it and how it arrives to her and how she sees herself and the quality of her work and the predicament she finds herself whenever she’s in the place surrounded by the presence. How can this be a hard poem when it is one of the easiest poems to understand on the face of the planet since the beginning of time. In three small verses she describes where the poetry and music come from, what you have to do to receive it, and what you cannot do or use in the process and where it’s at and who is there with her. she also mentioned how she sees the quality of her work and compares it to silver. I suspect she was being humble.
The poet and songwriter Joseph Wolff talks about it in his poetry book called “The Place of Love”
A fine collection of lyrics and poetry that is highly illuminating.
Good take on the poem. Helpful to me, as it confused me.
On the other hand, you’re a jerk.
Although different people see different things in poetry and a person doesn’t always have to understand a poem completely, I too, was having difficulty enjoying this poem because I could not grasp any of what the author was conveying. I appreciate Andrew’s explanation. Thank you
The poem is not that difficult to understand. A.D. is just trying to capture images from a train station experience–what she saw and her thought about it.
That is all there is to it.
The last line is the one that has
always stuck in my head and which
occasionally just pops into it from
out of nowhere at moments when people vanish
like – you’re in a train station – the opposite
platform is crowded – in your boredom you observe
those people – their shopping bags, their shoes,
their mannerisms – then their train pulls up – it
takes them all in – through the window you may catch
a part of a familiar torso, an aspect of a hairstyle
that had caught your attention, a jacket that you’d admired – then the train is gone – the opposite platform stands empty – a crisp packet you saw one of the departed passengers eating blows along the platform – a newspaper someone was reading lies on a seat – they’re gone – the moment of them and that place has gone – gone forever into the mists of time – the orbiting mists – the mystery is the circumference
I heard this poem again about 25 years after reading it for the first time at school. I didn’t make a fist of it then and still can’t. I can understand most of her popular poetry, but this is an exception.
Perhaps it is simply off the wall, or she was smoking at the time.
I’d love to hear a comment on what it means.