Piano. D.H. Lawrence
The main mood of the poem is melancholy; in the very first stanza the author refers to the dusk. Twilight as a symbol is the passage from daylight to night time darkness, and often represents a symbol of inner reflection or as an allegory of old age. This is the moment of the day for reflection and is often used as a metaphor for the passage of time and the exhaustion of creativity. Like many symbolic moments, twilight has a dual aspect: It can be linked to old age and the imminence of death and oblivion, or it can represent very intense emotions and sentiments such as nostalgia. “Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me”; the poem in settle in the present, maybe in a piano concert where a woman sings and maybe plays a song; in his mind he goes back to a certain moment in his life. Then he remembers himself as a child under the piano with his mother. The song his mother sings, seems to be the same that he is listening to in the “concert”.
In the second stanza, he follows the same patter, the
piano in the concert, “betrays him back”, so it makes him remember another
moment. “To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside...” Winter is
the season or death and nature’s annual rest. As a symbol in art the God of
winter is Saturn (the lord of time). Which, may be a good symbol, since it may
be talking about the death of his mother, and giving the idea of time passing
by.
In the third stanza he comes back to the present, “So
now, it is useless for the singer to burst into clamour...” Then it seems that
the song has got a changed rhythm. It seems to be a song that begins in a slow
peace and at certain point, it bursts. And then he says, “it is vain...” The
author has decided to flow in the flood of remembrance and to continue
remembering.
As a reader it may seem that the author is talking to
you, the author may be opening his mind and heart to the reader, he tells the
reader what he is doing and what causes his memories. The main mood is
nostalgia or sadness.
D.H. Lawrence
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And the pressing of the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with the winter outside
And the hymns in the cozy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
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