There is, of course, his great fondness for alliteration. Readers familiar with Hopkins’ poetry will find here early traces of what would become his signature style. So, you must imagine this poem, this curse, being read aloud…Īnd field-flowers make the fields forlorn,Īnd John shall lie, where winds are dead, A malison is a curse, specifically a spoken curse – a malediction, or execration, if you like. Malison is an unusual word these days – so unusual that my spellchecker underlines it red, but it was a little more common in Victorian times when this was written. It’s just starting to cool down little by little, but while it is still summer, here is a rather sinister early Hopkins poem, The Summer Malison. Alberta’s tar sands (National Geographic)
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