Transcription
The Night Wind by Emily Bronte
In Summer's mellow midnight, a cloudless moon
Shone through an open parlor window, and rose trees wet with dew.
I sat in silent musing. The soft wind waved my hair;
It told me heaven was glorious, and sleeping Earth was fair.
I needed not its breathing to bring such thoughts to me,
But still it whispered lowly, "How dark the woods will be!"
The thick leaves in my murmur are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices, in Instinct with Spirit, seem.
I said, "Go, gentle singer, thy wooing voice is kind,
But do not think its music has power to reach my mind.
Play with the scented flower, the young tree's supple bough,
And leave my human feelings in their own course to flow."
The wanderer would not heed me; its kiss grew warmer still.
"Oh, come!" it sighed so sweetly, "I'll win thee against thy will.
Were we not friends from childhood? Have I not loved thee long?"
As long as thou, the solemn night, whose silence wakes my song.
And when thy heart is resting beneath the church's stone,
I shall have time for mourning, and thou for being alone.
Okay, this is a poem by Emily Jan Bronte. Emily Bronte was an English novelist and poet from the Romantic period. Um, she was born in Yorkshire. Um, and she's best known for *Wuthering Heights*, which is considered a classic of English literature. Um, sadly, it seems that all her sisters and all her her brothers and her brother and all her sisters, everybody died young. And, uh, I think she died at the age, age of something like 30. Anyway, "The Night Wind" by Emily Bronte. What's this about?
Well, this poem, we have, I think, Emily sitting there by a window in summer. And I think the window is open. And there's this warm breeze. And it's a beautiful, uh, evening. And she feels, she feels wonderful about the evening. Um, but then she starts thinking. And there is this wind that is trying to win her over. It's trying to seduce her. And she is fighting against it in her mind. And I think this wind represents the emancipation of women. I think this, which she's thinking that, um, um, she would like to be more than just the little woman who marries and has children and looks after her home and her family. She wants to be free to think her own things, to live her own life, to behave in her own way, not to follow the mold. And I think this is the fight that is going on inside her. That the wind, this wind, this warm wind is trying to seduce her to say, "Come, come. Let's see if you, if you don't do this, um, you only have one life. You need, you, you need to act now and take control of your own life and do, do your own things. And don't worry about, um, society."
But she's very, um, resistant to do this. And I think that there's almost this internal fight to obey the norms of society or to, uh, go her own way and be her own independent, uh, mistress.
"The Night Wind"
In Summer's mellow midnight, a cloudless moon
Shone through an open parlor window, and rose trees wet with dew.
So it's a beautiful, warm summer night. And the moon is shining. And the, uh, sitting room, the parlor window is open. And there is dew on the rose trees. And everything is beautiful. Everything is lovely.
I sat in silent musing.
She's musing, she's thinking about things.
The soft wind waved my hair;
It told me heaven was glorious, and sleeping Earth was fair.
So she's here and she's connected with nature. She's connected with the wind. She's connected, uh, to, uh, heaven. It's, uh, life is beautiful. And, um, she is part of that.
I needed not its breathing to bring such thoughts to me,
But still it whispered lowly, "How dark the woods will be!"
So she didn't need the, the wind to tell her that the world was beautiful, that everything was fair, that she was, she felt wonderful and connected to this beautiful world. But the wind then whispered to her again, "The woods will be dark." So if you don't follow the way that's expected for you, life will be difficult. And I think this is where she's get, getting into this metaphor.
The thick leaves in my murmur are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices, in Instinct with Spirit, seem.
So she's, she can hear the leaves murmuring. And it, it's like a dream. And all the voices of the leaves are telling her to live her own life, not to live the life that, um, society expects from her. Uh, and this is something that is her instinct. And all of their voices are telling her to follow her instinct. Her internal voice knows what is right.
I said, "Go, gentle singer, thy wooing voice is kind,
But do not think its music has power to reach my mind.
So she's now saying to the moon, "No, I'm going to follow the way of society. I'm going to follow the rules of society." Um, "Don't think that your, the way you are tempting me is go, is going, is going to change me." Yeah, you're, it's, it's lovely to think of, of the, of the beauty doing this and how beautiful it would be. And, uh, yes, um, you, you, you would be my lover. But, um, you're the, the, the, the temptation you're putting before me is not something I'm going to succumb to.
Play with the scented flower, the young tree's supple bough,
And leave my human feelings in their own course to flow.
So, w, so wind, temptation, go and play with the beautiful flowers. Go and play with the supple, the bendy, the malleable boughs of the trees. But leave my own feelings alone. Let me decide, um, what I want to do. And this, in a way, is almost ironic. She's saying, "Let, let me decide what I want to do." And she's, she's taking control of her life. But is she going to take control of her life and be free and to do what she wants, or is she going to, um, reject the calls of society?
The wanderer would not heed me; its kiss grew warmer still.
So this temptation is getting stronger and stronger inside her.
"Oh, come!" it sighed so sweetly, "I'll win thee against thy will.
So the wind, the temptation to do this, is getting stronger and stronger. And the, the temptation says, "Even if you don't want to do this, uh, I'm going to persuade you because, uh, because, uh, I, I know this is really the right thing for you."
Were we not friends from childhood? Have I not loved thee long?
So, haven't you always done your own thing since we were children? Haven't I loved you? Haven't we been friends? Haven't you been independent since you were a, a, a girl?
As long as thou, the solemn night, whose silence wakes my song.
Um, that these sorts of independence have been with you. Have been inside you ever since you were a child. They, they, this is something that is always within you. This is something that is almost your birthright as a, as an individual.
And when thy heart is resting beneath the church's stone,
I shall have time for mourning, and thou for being alone.
So you only have one life. When you're, when you're dead, when you die and you're buried under the, uh, uh, under the ground in the church, then you have time to be alone, to be without me, to be without doing the things that you want. And I shall miss you when you die because I love you. But you only have one life. And you need to act now. Carpe diem, the day, and act because this, this is what you, what you want. This is what is right for you.
So, well, my take on "The Night Wind" by Emily Bronte.