Tess Of The D’Urbervilles-Phase The Sixth-The Convert.

Hello Everyone,
 The ones that stayed through all the good times, bad times and crazytimes and the new handful of people. Here is it, the next installment of”Tess Of The D’Urbervilles” This, of course, you all may know is anovel written by Thomas Hardy. Because of respect, love, admiration Ifelt for this character I started writing about the character Tess aspoems. The initial idea was to write seven long poems bringing in themain events through which Thomas Hardy depicted this character. Ithought of making two changes one at the beginning and one towards theend. I started this venture in 2005 but something went wrong with thewhole idea of change in the beginning. That is a long long story intowhich I am not going into now. When I stopped writing these poemswhatever remained were kept in a box, the real “PoetryBox”. Really,there is a box with me, a wooden Remington shell box. I claimed I willfinish them… but never got the strength of mind to take it back aswhat happened during the first attempt must be overcome before tryingit again. Recently I figured I am good enough to get right back atthem. Took the poems and literally re-wrote the remaining part, I brokethis Phase of the novel into two poems. This is Phase the sixth-TheConvert, Part One. This poem ends with the first letter of Tess toAngel Clare, one of the most touching part of the entire novel is thisletter. The previous Phase was divided into two poems, this one will betwo poems one this one and the remaining part of Phase sixth. Then twomore poems will be posted here “The Fulfillment” the last Phase of thestory.
  Like I said in my previous post here, these are still rough drafts.For those who don’t know the way I write poems, I first write a roughdraft, portions of this maybe very close to prose. Then from that Iwrite a first draft, which will be an edited version of the roughdraft. Then I write a final draft. Those who bought my book and read itwill know what a final draft may look like as most of the poems hereare either rough drafts or first drafts.
  I would like your feedback on this if you get enough time to readthem. The link to previous phase poems are also here. Once more this isan on going adventure… I will finish it with the help of God and thesupport of all of you. I dedicate these poems to that one person. Sheknows who is she.

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 TheD’Urbervilles-Phase The Third–The Rally.

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

Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fifth–The Woman Pays-Part 1.

Tess Of The D’Urbervilles-Phase The Fifth-Part 2-The Plight, In Tears And Hope.

Tess Of The D’Urbervilles

TheConvert.

Though tried to move away unnoticed,
Tess couldn’t save herself from theeagle’s view,
Of the man she hated every moment inthese years.
Who now have a changed appearance,
And in his speech have fire filledpassions,
But the view of Tess put out the fire,
His passions deserted him in theinnocence seen
And his preachings of faith becamebabbling.

Tess left his view through the countrygravel road.
And as fast as she could, walked away,
But once again failed in the outpacing,
The man who haunted her dreams,
From the age of innocence till date.

Alec caught up with the almost running Tess,
And tried to introduce himself back,
The cold of the winter that stillremained,
Filled in the responses of Tess inreturn.
Alec told about the way he tried toreach out,
Losing hope as all his endeavors tofind her failed.
Now a convert who changed his views,
And told her about the way he changed,
After his mind by a parson was purified
Whom once he insulted for the preach offaith.
The same parson Tess ventured to meet,
But in futile effort, and now shestands
In front of the worst enemy at theworst moment.
The regretful words of Alec to her,
For his misconduct which he want tocorrect,
But nothing can pierce the shield oflove of Tess,
For the one whom she love, remaineddedicated.

Alec tried all he learned from hispreaching,
To persuade Tess in him to believe,
But her unbelief she said, in hisconversion,
And his scheme of religion as flashes,that won’t last.
The talks between them went on and on,
The converted evangelist and a girlwhose belief lost,
By the fancy of men in the senselesscraving of youth,
Tess in the depths of her mind thought,
How long and how far the evangelistwill follow,
As their talks became mere ramblings ofstrangers,
A man trying hard to find a stablecommon ground,
And girl who learned wickedness ofhumanity,
By experience than experiments of life,
Nor by the wisdom no evangelist evertaught.

Then at the “Cross in hand” theycame, a place so isolated,
Where stood a stone, upon which carveda human hand,
Where the hunter must leave his prey,so he asked,
How she learned to speak so fluentlylike a learned,
And who taught her such mannerisms inspeech,
Evasively with glances far away fromAlec she said,
In her troubles all the things shelearned, and paused,

Expecting the implied question from himthat came,
What troubles she have had as if heknew nothing.
In limited words Tess said about thefirst one,
The one that related to him that lefthim muted,
The the distance between him and her heunderstood,
The difference between the humans inthem he learned,
Still gathering the fury of his youththe silence he broke,
And told her, she will see him again,with conviction,
“No, do not come near me again” shesaid and stopped,
As she saw Alec upon the pillar and hesaid,
Once this was a holy cross, and hisfear of her,
Fear of her charms that may tempt him,
And to swear upon the stone that shemay never tempt him,
After a long time Tess said the wordGod,
As she sworn upon the stone saying whatis so unnecessary.
Alec left her after a little chat nowknowing,
Her religious unbelief, yet, how highshe remain,
And how low a human he is in everyaspect of life.

Around the hill she walked as the firstnext human she saw,
A shepherd to whom she asked about themeaning of the stone,
He said, O’ twer not a cross but apiece of stone laid upon,
The bones of a man who were killed forselling his soul,
To devil and were caught and tortured to death by country men.

Tess stood there motionless and stunned,
For sometime there in thoughts, then continued,
And step by step drew near toFlintcomb-Ash,
Then ahead of her she saw,
A couplewalking and talking,
The chilly air of the evening
By theaccents of a man warmed,
And by the response of the young girl
Toall those silly remarks.
For a moment those voices cheered,
Theheart of Tess, then the thoughts
Of her owntribulation to her mind came,
When she thought about the origin ofthis encounter,
That started with same kind ofattraction,
Which Tess at nineteen know very well.
When close to the couples she came,
She understood the girl as Izz Huet,
Who left her opposite sex interest tothe news,
Of Tess’s excursion, to which Tessexplained none,
And Izz a girl who grew up with Tesswith knack changed,
And started talking about her littleaffair,
With a boy who at Talbothays workedwith her,
And took all the pain following her tothis place,
To tell her he’s been in love
With her forall these two years,
But she have hardly answered him.

Days has passed all around Tess,
Nights crawled like a serpent tired,
Tess’s hard labor continued in Flintcomb-Ash,
Chopping off swedes and other manly farm jobs.
One day while hard work in the dying winter days,
Alec came back to her against all her wishes,
With a marriage license to make up for his tricks,
A trick for his dirty, rotten mind,
But total destruction of innocence of a young girl.
Tess in the advancement was forced to reveal,
Her marriage and in brief words her estrangement,
From a husband she love with every drop of her blood,
Every breath that keeps her alive.
Mockery led to irony and irony to disappointment,
Then anger filled the crooked mind of Alec,
His days as pastor ended as back to dirty past he fell.

Days brightened in the late winter in Wessex,
And the CandlemasFair too passed by,
A day when to decide where to spent,
The future in the next year as a farm girl,
Oh’ Tess did not go as she thought,
No outdoor engagement will be necessary,
As her husband from the far away land may come.
That gave her a bit of peace of mind,
And the sun started to spread his wings around,
Though the wind carried the memories,
Memories of the gone by winter days.
Alec remained the one dark spot around Tess,
As to her home with all philosophy he learned he went,
But to her negations and the strong will with she loved,
Her long gone husband who in her mind lived,
With more vigor than in his life of flesh and blood,
All of his efforts to change her mind shattered,
And in disappointment anger and frustration,
Alec left her once more failing to love her.

Tess decided to write to Angel, concealing,
Her hardships and assuring her undying love for him,
But between those lines what one may feel,
Is her fear of some unknown, her frustration of desperation,
But she couldn’t finish her writing,
As the thought of him asking Izz to go along,
Came with a storm in her mind and gave her thoughts,
That Angel may not care for her anymore.

As the warmth around the nature got more foothold,
Work in the farm too changed,
Tess worked in the processing of the corn sheaves,
From daybreak they started and till night they worked,
Life without love in all mechanical form continued,
But heart never felt hopeless and it still thrived,
To hear a loving word as words of love to be said,
Actions of love and care in dreams filled,
Oh’ any sin knowing or unknowing committed,
Melted from her soul, leaving it pure,
And the commitment she shown erased,
Every bit of doubt, from her mind,
About Angel’s love for her,
But the dark side of love stalked,
Her day and night and in between,
The one who bears the pride of her family name,
Alexander D’Urberville the ex-preacher now her shadow,
And on a day when upon the machine she stood,
He came and waited for her to take a break,
When for having food she took a break,
The poor little Tess who hardly could walk,
Sat upon the rick to eat her modest dinner,
Alec came to her with his usual advancements,
Her unbelief in religion and her unwavering love,
His mockery of her work and her his sympathy,
For the hardship upon her he brought,
Then he declared to her “Here I am, my love,
As in old times” For which she protested,
Nothing is the same as no affection for him is there,
In her heart that in all dedication remained,
For the husband from whom she haven’t heard.
Alec changed his affection talks to blames
Blaming her for the reason for his backsliding,
Then to her he said to share it and leave,
The mule she calls her husband.
No warning, no second thought, no fear,
The heavy leather farm gloves she took
And swung it directly at his face,
Alec fiercely started at her but he controlled,
As blood through the side of his lips oozed,
The gravity of the situation Tess understood,
But upon the rick she just sat and said,
Whip me, crush me; and don’t mind the people around,
I shall not cry loud,
Once victim, always victim—that’s the law!,
Alec holding his anger and pain declared,
He was once her master and he will be once more,
If she is any mans wife she will be his.
Tess in silence upon the rick sat,
Then after sometime with the same mind that’s stunned,
Resumed her work at the threshing-machine.
Alec waited for her to finish her work,
And walked along with her on her way home,
He offered her help once more,
To make better lives of her and her parents and siblings,
To this offer Tess to Alec told,
Not to mention her brothers and sisters once more,
To break her down in her good feelings of them,
And asked him to help them as God knows,
They are in need and to help them without telling her,
And adamantly said, no no she will not take,
Nothing from him, for them or for herself.

Alec left her and Tess to her lodgings went,
After a bath and sharing supper with the family she lived,
She fell into thoughts as the little lamp flickered,
Warmth and light around, then in a passionate mood she wrote.

My Own Husband,
  Let me call you so, I must,
Even if it makes you angry to think,
About a wife as I am, so unworthy,
Cry to you I must, in my trouble,
As none else I have but you in my mind.
Angel, I am so much exposed to temptation,
I fear to say who it is and I do not like,
To write anything about it at all,
But to you I cling in way you cannot think,
Can you not come to me at once,
Before anything terrible happens?
O, I know you cannot as far away you are,
I think I must die, if you do not come soon,
Or tell me to come to you soon.
The punishment for me you have measured,
I know that I deserved, well deserved,
And you are right and just to be angry with me.
But please Angel, please, not to be so just,
Just be a little kind to me,
Even if I do not deserve your kindness,
And and come to me soon.
In your arms I could die,
If you would come to me,
I would well be content to die in your arms,
If so be you had forgiven me.

My life I live entirely for you, Angel,
As I love you so much, too much, to blame,
For you leaving me alone and going away,
And I know the necessity of you to find,
Land where you can build our farm.
Do not think a word of bitterness or sting,
I shall say against the will and wish of yours.
Only come back to me as without you I am desolate,
My darling O, so desolate, I do not mind to work,
If you send me a word, one little line that say,
“I am coming soon” I will bide O, so cheerfully.

Ever since we were married,
It has been so much my religion to be faithful,
To you in every thought and look,
Even when a man speaks compliment to me,
Before I am aware, I feel wronging you.
Have you never felt one little bit,
Of what you used to feel at the diary?
If you have, how can you keep away from me?
The same woman I am Angel, the one you fell in love,
Not the one you disliked and never saw.
The moment I met you all that was past died,
I became another woman filled with life,
Life and love that came from your heart.
How can I be the early one?
Why do you not see this?
Dear, be a little more conceited,
And believe in yourself who made this change in me,
Perhaps that would give you the mind,
To come to me, your poor wife.

In my happiness how silly I was,
When I thought I could trust,
Trust you always to love me.
I ought to have known,
Such as that was not for poor me.
But sick at heart I am,
Not only for old times,
But for the present too.
Think Angel, think, how it hurt,
My heart not to see you, ever,
Ah, if I could hurt your dear heart,
A little every day as mine does every day,
It might lead you to show pity,
To your poor lonely one.

I am rather pretty people say,
Angel (handsome is the word they use,
Since to be truthful to you, I wish.)
Perhaps I am what they say,
But my good looks I do not value,
I like to have them because,
They to you my dear, my looks belong.
And that maybe at least one thing,
About me worth your having.
Oh so much have I felt this,
That when I met annoyance of the same,
My face with bandage I tied,
As long as people would believe in it.
O, Angel not from vanity I tell you all this,
And you will know certainly I do not,
But only that you may come to me.

If you cannot come to me Angel,
Will you let me come to you?
I am as I say, worried,
Pressed to do what I will not do.
It cannot be that an inch I shall yield,
Yet, I am in terror,
As what an accident might lead to.
And so defenseless I am,
On account of my first error.
I cannot say more about this,
As it makes me too miserable.
But if I break down by falling,
Into some fearful snare,
My last state will be worse than the first.
O, God I cannot think about it,
Let me come at once,
Or at once come to me.

I would be content, ay, glad,
To live as a servant with you,
If I may not as your wife,
So I could be near you,
And get glimpses of you,
And think of you as mine.

The daylight has nothing to show me,
Since you are not here,
And the rooks and starlings on the field,
I don’t like to see,
Because I grieve and grieve to miss you,
Who used to see them with me.
I wish for only one thing in heaven,
Or earth or under the earth,
To meet you my own dear, come to me,
Come to me and save me,
From what threatens me.

Your faithful heartbroken
Tess.

(To Be Continued……)

The original text of the novel for this Phase can be found here… Tess Of The D’Urbervilles-Phase The Sixth-The Convert