The Loon’s Call
Colourful crocuses poking from brown grass©RedCat
The song thrush singing her tune
Miss him, miss him, miss him
Her hands dance over the lace pillow
Her lips move, but the only sound is the click of the bobbins
Suddenly her hands stop, as tears rolls down her cheek
A forlorn sound escape her
Like the loon’s call echoing over the lake at night
Crows calling at Night ~ Li bai
Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows roosting near.Crows calling at Night – Li bai
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.
Written for tonight’s Poetics: China – Kingdom of the Poem, prompt over at dVerse.
The Poetics’ Challenge tonight is: Select ONE of the prompt poems and with as many re-reads as needed, imagine what the poet has painted, what impressions are conveyed.
Then – reinterpret the poem in our own style.
You can hear the loon’s call here.
The Song thrush male may have a repertoire of more than 100 phrases.
lovely use of bird sounds echoing her longing and sadness. Spot on with the thrush
– always does that repeat and the loon is indeed mournful
Thank you! 🌹
Both birds are for me part of my childhood. A thrush I heard earlier today, but I miss hearing the loon. 😀
Such exquisite weaving of bird sounds in this one, Helene 💝💝 I especially love; “In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl. Made of emerald yarn like mist.”
Such a longing here! The repetition in the third line really works well. This would sound wonderful read aloud!
You’ve sustained the essence of the original while spinning this beautiful new creation. The colors, the flowers, the sounds, the heartache. I feel the pulse in this one and your voice is clear.
“A forlorn sound escape her” Oh, I know that piteous sound.
Your words are so lush, so beautifully visual. It honors the source poem.
I love how you have the song thrush calling ‘Miss him, miss him, miss him’ – I can really hear that: beautiful!
This is a stunning tapestry, Helene.
BTW, you may have a tiny typo in this line:
P.S. how is your sick child?
I’ve never heard the loon in real life, only on film, but I find it so evocative, and you’ve captured that in your reinterpretation, Helene. We chose the same poem, and our versions are so different! I love the ‘song thrush singing her tune Miss him, miss him, miss him’ and the ‘click of the bobbins’ adds to the atmosphere.
The loon’s call is almost like forlorn desperation and you express that longing well with your words, especially with “A forlorn sound escape her” and “Miss him, miss him, miss him.”
It was such a long time since I heard the loon… but it’s such a mournful song.
Beautifully sad and mournful. I love the miss him, miss him, miss him – I could hear the thrush call.
This is amazing. 🧡
A great reinterpretation Helene! Nicely done.
The loon’s call is perfect for the mood of this poem.