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maribouCountry of the Young, by Al Purdy (much-loved, much-missed)
A. Y. Jackson for instance
83 years old
halfway up a mountain
standing in a patch of snow
to paint a picture that says
“Look here
You’ve never seen this country
it’s not the way you thought it was
Look again”
And boozy traders
lost in a dream of money
crews of homesick seamen
moored to a China-vision
hunting the North West Passage
they didn’t see it either
The colours I mean
for they’re not bright Gauguin
or blazing Vincent
not even Bruegel’s Hunters in the Snow
where you can get lost
and found in five minutes
- but the original colour-matrix
that after a giant’s heartbeat
lighted the maple forests
in the country south
You have to stoop a little
bend over and then look up
- dull orange on a cliff face
that says iron deposits
olive leaves of the ground willow
with grey silver catkins
minute wild flower beacons
sea blue as the world’s eye –
And you can’t be looking for something else
money or a night’s lodging on earth
a stepping stone to death maybe
or you’ll never find the place
hear an old man’s voice
in the country of the young
that says
“Look here –“
(The A. Y. Jackson picture I always figured was the initial reference for this poem can be found here. Although he was only in his late sixties when he painted that one.)
A. Y. Jackson for instance
83 years old
halfway up a mountain
standing in a patch of snow
to paint a picture that says
“Look here
You’ve never seen this country
it’s not the way you thought it was
Look again”
And boozy traders
lost in a dream of money
crews of homesick seamen
moored to a China-vision
hunting the North West Passage
they didn’t see it either
The colours I mean
for they’re not bright Gauguin
or blazing Vincent
not even Bruegel’s Hunters in the Snow
where you can get lost
and found in five minutes
- but the original colour-matrix
that after a giant’s heartbeat
lighted the maple forests
in the country south
You have to stoop a little
bend over and then look up
- dull orange on a cliff face
that says iron deposits
olive leaves of the ground willow
with grey silver catkins
minute wild flower beacons
sea blue as the world’s eye –
And you can’t be looking for something else
money or a night’s lodging on earth
a stepping stone to death maybe
or you’ll never find the place
hear an old man’s voice
in the country of the young
that says
“Look here –“
(The A. Y. Jackson picture I always figured was the initial reference for this poem can be found here. Although he was only in his late sixties when he painted that one.)
