
The narrative unfolds through the introspective thoughts of a sick man, grappling with his deteriorating state and the passage of time. As he lies in bed, he reflects on the dissonance between the external world and his internal experience. The clock chimes, marking the late hour, while the crowing of a rooster signals an impending dawn, creating a sense of confusion and disorientation. The protagonist's mind drifts into memories of childhood, where he recalls the innocence and simplicity of youth, contrasting sharply with his current plight. He longs for the carefree days spent in nature, particularly at a ruined castle, where he would drop stones into a well, listening to their echoes as they disappeared into the depths. This act symbolizes a desire to reconnect with lost joy and the purity of existence. As he sinks deeper into his thoughts, he experiences a metaphorical descent through layers of reality, suggesting a struggle against the weight of his illness and the inevitability of death. The imagery of falling evokes a sense of helplessness, as he feels himself being drawn into the earth, away from the light and life above. The narrative captures the tension between the desire for life and the pull of mortality, illustrating the protagonist's internal conflict and yearning for a return to a simpler, more vibrant existence. The work explores themes of memory, loss, and the passage of time, using rich, evocative language to convey the protagonist's emotional landscape. The interplay between the physical and metaphysical realms highlights the fragility of life and the deep-seated human longing for connection and understanding amidst suffering. Ultimately, the narrative serves as a poignant meditation on existence, the inevitability of decline, and the enduring hope for renewal.
By Robert Graves · First published 1944 · Genre: Poetry, Literary Fiction, Surrealism · 533 words
Downstairs a clock had chimed, two o'clock only. Then outside from the hen-roost crowing came. But why should Shift-wing call against the clock, Three hours from dawn? The shutters click and knock, And he remembers a sad superstition Unfitting for the sick-bed -- Turn aside, Distract, divide, ponder the simple tales That puzzled childhood; riddles, turn them over, Half-riddles, answerless, the more intense! -- Lost bars of music tinkling with no sense Recur, drowning uneasy superstition.
Down is listed on Textopian as a poem by Robert Graves, dated 1944 CE.
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sickness · dreams · superstition · childhood · memory · descent · nature · time · existence · introspection · loss · mystery