Summary

The text "Swans of Bray" is a poetic reflection on the timeless and majestic presence of swans in the harbor, observing their beauty, mystery, and the way they navigate the waterways with grace and dignity.

Abstract

"Swans of Bray" captures the elegance and enigmatic nature of swans as they move through the water, evoking a sense of awe and respect from the observer. The swans are depicted as regal and knowledgeable beings, carrying ancient wisdom and the secrets of their environment. They are compared to warriors, with their presence being as commanding in winter as it is in summer. The poem contemplates the swans' perspective on the world around them, including human and canine activities, and questions the impact of time and change on their population. The swans' effortless glide is contrasted with the author's own struggles, and their origin is pondered—whether from battle or dalliance. The swans are seen as a continuous, unchanging presence, moving in harmony and seemingly transcending time, while the author stands in wonder, armed only with words to capture the moment.

Opinions

The author holds the swans in high regard, likening them to "porcelain warriors" and acknowledging their ancient knowledge.
There is a sense of reverence for the swans' lineage and the laws that govern their lives.
The swans are perceived as detached observers of human and animal life, with the author curious about their thoughts on these matters.
The poem reflects on the potential decline in the swans' numbers, hinting at a concern for their future.
The author admires the swans' ability to glide gracefully, a skill they themselves have experienced only once.
There is a suggestion that the swans represent an unchanging constant in a world characterized by change and vanity.
The swans' presence is seen as transcendent, moving through time and space with ease and leaving the author in a state of wordless wonder.

Swans of Bray

Image: By Harold De Gauche using ET + MidJourney

Those sleek lines,

Whether afar or anear you cut through me.

Those heads,

Heavy with old knowledge and secrets of the harbour.

Thy symmetry as fierce and fearful as winter as in summer.

You proud porcelain warriors of the waterways

— I salute your laws and your lineage.

Of hounds and humans what ponder you

As perlustrate from copper perch?

What about the bridge?

What about the boardwalk?

What about boats and blue skies and grey?

Are you nine and fifty or are your numbers fading?

Is all change but the vanity of vicissitude?

There you are gliding as I never did but once

In stormy sea on stony shore.

What battle brought you here?

Or is it from dalliance you are returning?

There you are sequentially,

One after the other.

In solar legions dressed in white,

In moon-blue December ornamentation.

There you are swans of Bray

As you pass with neither fetter nor friction,

Penetrating time,

Circling and silhouetting,

Circling and silhouetting.

There you are without words.

Here I am with wonder.

Here I am with only words.

Irish writer