Pied Beauty, ya pie

I’m of an age that I had to learn to recite Gerard Manley Hopkins’ Pied Beauty at school, on several different occasions. I did not excel at learning poems by heart; at least, not the ones I was told to learn. I have a difficult relationship with the poem, you could say.

So when my mother-in-law asked for me to recite it for her daily poetry readings (and knowing full well what she would get), I said yes. Here’s something like what she got:

Pied Beauty, read by Stewart Russell — much against his better judgment

It’s a great poem, but one that should never be inflicted on a teenage boy. Yer man GMH was quite the one for making up words: brinded isn’t a thing, and I dunno what happened with the accents on ‘áll trádes’, but they’ve gone well into the twee zone. And as for ‘trout that swim’: is there any other kind, Gerry? Mibbee there’s ones that fly where you’re from, but they’re all strictly aquatic here.

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