Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fourth–The Consequence.

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There are people out there who believes I am here for the comment ofpeople. Hell with that. I don’t want anyone’s comment in here. Go away,if you don’t like my poems. One don’t have to comment here just becauseI comment on your site.
Ariel, spend exactly 4 seconds in my site and said, “I like your poem”through IM. When I asked about details, she was like “ I like portionsof what I read”. That was a lie. I wonder for what. I don’t like peoplelying to me unnecessarily. You all owe me nothing for my comments. Isthat clear for everyone? If you have questions contact me through IM. Iwill be online every evening no matter what.
 Mo Cuishle, I understand your apologies. You are the privilegedone. You can comment in this site whenever you want. She the one whooffered every ounce of her luck and I owe everything she wants. Even ifshe don’t comment I know she will never lie to me.

My apologies if I am sounding too  much pissed off. I am pissedoff. Ariel is a wonderful poet. I will always admire her as a wonderfulpoet.

Well here is the fourth installment of “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles”.With this phase I am taking the turn of the story. I still did not gotthe flow to write these poems. Here is my confession. I intended tomake two major changes in my poems from the story. But with the firstchange in the beginning, I got messed up personally and decided tochange that back to what it was in the book. That took me out of flowand even after months I just can’t get back to flow with this. Well Iam going to get it to you in the way I can for the time being. But Iwill re-write this.
 Now you all may be wondering what is the second change. Hahah,keep reading, the second change is inevitable, but for that I would nothave attempted this project at all.

The Consequence. The fourth phase, of the book where Tess goes throughthe big decision making process of marrying Angel Clare. I tried mybest to take only the character out of this phase as Thomas Hardy’sdescription is vast in explaining Tess’s mind. I relied a little toomuch on Hardy’s text and there are many phrases that I took directlyfrom Hardy’s text as those beautiful phrases in my opinion have nosubstitutes.

Here are the previous phases.

Tess Of TheD’Urbervilles. Phase The First–The  Maiden.

Tess Of TheD’Urbervilles-Phase The Second–Maiden NoMore

Tess Of The D’Urbervilles-Phase The Third–The Rally.

TessOf The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fourth–The Consequence.

Angel Clare in his conscience knew,
Tess is none to toy and dismiss with,
The whole world of Tess as Clare knew,
Upon this little milkmaid, depended,
A beauty at skin depth don’t stop,
A beauty built from within,
A character born from the soil,
A character lived in the fullness of life.
These in perfections and imperfections,
Angle Clare in the dairymaid Tess, loved.
Though the damage still so small,
Deep in his heart felt a guilt for his act,
Nobility for the noble in trouble times shows,
And to his kinsfolk for permission he went.

Angel presented his desire to be married,
And his parents resisted not as they knew,
His desire to marry Mercy Chant,
The neighbor’s daughter whom Angel liked a lot,
But to the surprise of all Angel told his plans,
To marry a girl who fits his farming life,
Though to none about his love he talked,
The perfect parenthoods of his parents he felt.
Who both silently gave the permission,
For Angel Clare to follow his judgment.

Heart filled with happiness,
Angel rode his way back to Talbothays,
Where everything was inside in the afternoon heat,
The humid air with odour of summer fruits,
Hays and flowers in the heat filled,
That seemed to make every animal, bird,
And even bees drowsy to rest in shade.

Angel walked in time of afternoon skimming,
Where he found Tess coming down up from her nap,
Her hair coiled up and her arm she stretched up,
Her face flushed with sleep,
Her eyelids over the pupils hung heavy,
The fullness of any woman, her spiritual self,
Seen in full upon Tess, Just out of her sleep.

Angel held her close to his heart,
And he felt her exited heart beat upon his,
When he told her he came back soon just for her.
Angel joined Tess in the afternoon skimming,
Where again he held her close to his own heart,
And with every courage and braveness of men,
The moment in every way dreaded and dreamt,
By every man in his entire life,
Angel Clare chose his moment to be that one,
Where he asked Tess for her hand in marriage,
Though her heart throbbed to say yes,
Love cannot blind the realities of her life,
The ancient family she belongs to,
The hated species of Angel Clare,
And her own past as a dark cloud loomed,
Over every word she said to Angel Clare,
Tess in the bitterness of pain told,
She cannot be the wife of him,
And bowed her head in grief,
She told though her love is only for him,
And rather be his than anybody’s in the world,
And told she cannot be his wife again and again,
The answer of no, any lover can’t take.

Though she said she was unworthy,
As a girl of the commons
In the eyes of the parents of Angel Clare,
Nothing of her past came from her mouth,
As Angel cared only a word of yes from her,
Every time Angel spoke to her in the weeks passed,
“No” is the word in her answers filled,
Left Angel in confusion.
For the reasons for him to understand,
Her bitter answer of no still echoed in his ears.

Love can bring in happiness,
And love can leave one in pain and tears,
Tess had gone through her happy days,
And now in bitterness of that love she felt,
Too pure was her love for Angel Clare,
For Tess to be the wife of him.
Thoughts of past and the family tree,
Haunted her to stubbornness,
Every time she told him she was unworthy,
And will cause him unhappiness.

Tearful days passed in utter confusion,
As her heart joined Angle Clare’s,
But her poor little conscience always knew,
A ‘Yes’ can’t be said to his request,
Though none she known at all,
May be predicting the calamities,
That may follow when truth reveals.
And she mourned the pain she gave her love,
And in her mind in penance wished,
Someone to tell him all about her,
All about her family, and her past,
All that happened forty miles away from there.

The feeling of love acts in a magical ways,
When it fills hearts and all reasons fades.
During a ride with Angel Clare,
A rainy evening under the tarp they both sat,
Riding to train station to deliver the milk,
Where first she told who she really was,
The one whom Angel did not danced,
At the Marlott meadows during the May Day dance.
Then on the way back she fulfilled her promise,
To tell the reasons for her answer of “no”,
Tess told him the truth of her ancestry,
To her surprise he was happy above all.
As he knew what that meant to his family,
The surprise and her childish thoughts,
Happiness and seeing the happiness of her love,
Tess could say nothing about her past.
But said yes to the marriage proposal.

Those Trantridge time gloomed her thoughts,
As she wanted to tell him every fault of her,
Wrote to her mother asking what to do,
Thought about the phrases with which to tell,
Angel about her mistress role at Trantridge farm,
But her mother told her to hold her peace,
And no language she knew had words good enough,
To tell him about her brutal experience,
Death of her virginity at the hands of her fake cousin,
Birth and death of Sorrow in the latter days.
Fear of losing him, fear about the fear she felt,
All added to the torment of her, day and night.

At last she gained courage and wrote to him,
The night before the wedding day,
Under the door her note she left,
And waited for his response in the early morn,
Angel like an Angel came and carried her,
In the happy day of his entire life,
The letter and the contents seemed not,
To bother this man filled with happy thoughts.
The wedding day was in full bloom at Talbothays,
But the wrong of the moment Tess did sensed,
And went to the room of Angel Clare,
Found the role fate again played to her,
As under the door mat she found,
The letter she wrote to him which he never seen.
All her strength like vapor faded,
As she can do no more but to fail her conscience,
Still she tried to confess her faults to him,
But stopped he with a promise to her,
That he will confess to her and hear her own,
After the wedding when they are at peace.

The wedding day went away,
The blessed day for every man and woman,
Tess had another day of enjoyment,
And she filled in every soul that saw,
Her moment of joy with her beauty and charm,
Too much of everything there was,
In the event so simple at the local church,
Every other emotion out showed by happiness,
And the whole nature in stillness waited,
As if waiting for a storm to pass.

Angel and Tess went to the nearby town,
To an old mansion of the D’Urbervilles,
Where at last at peace were their souls.
Angel first gave Tess, the family Jewels,
Then admiring the beauty of her,
Angel confessed the fault of him,
Of spending sometime with a London whore,
A fault with a hug and kiss by Tess forgiven,
Then she between the crackle of the burning woods,
A little louder than a whisper,
Tess narrated her life till that date,
Told her time with Alec D’Urberville,
Every detail of her days after,
The birth and death of her son in Marlott,
And the way she dealt with the pain of her.
The heaviness of her heart lightned,
But the eagerness of her conscience grew,
A fault not her own in her younger age,
A nightmare in her mind she carried,
All these years was for her, over.
Then in her heart filled in hopes,
In her eyes colors of her love glowed,
As she sat beside the legs of Angel Clare,
Admitting a flaw of her thrust upon her,
Forgiveness was a silent word that filled the air.

Love of men are like winter days,
A bit of cloud will gloom the light in it,
And the world will freeze in the cold of it.

Here is the text I followed. Tess Of The D’Urbervilles-Phase The Fourth The Consequence.

8 Replies to “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fourth–The Consequence.”

  1. Hmm… Sometimes I read your stuff in my “read subscriptions” option and then comment. If you where wondering.

    Yet I know what you mean, I hate it when somebody says “Random Props”. Aren’t comments supposed to be comments?

    And is that you in the picture?

  2. Do I call you L.P. or P.B.?  Not sure… but what you’ve done in these four poems is very interesting. Thomas Hardy wrote long, descriptive novels so that he could afford to publish his poetry. You’ve read his work and written poetry to help others capture the essence of his novels. Perhaps this is called the metaphysics of poetry?  “Kept the hope of her lifetime ever green” — a wonderful line… hope = evergreen… perhaps this is at the heart of every poem and every poet — hope that is “ever green” 

  3. Indeed…You have nothing to prove to any body. I read your poems and if I didn’t I wouldn’t comment on it, because why should I if I didn’t really read what you wrote. You are one of the few poets I look up to. When i’m in a rut and I need inspiration I come to your site and your poems inspires me.

  4. P.s. Not a big fan of story poems myself, but this one is great. Four parts to it..wow! “Love of men are like winter days,
    A bit of cloud will gloom the light in it, And the world will freeze in the cold of it.” As usual there is always something deeply sad about your poems. Sometimes it’s not apparent on the surface.

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