Khan Kubla - a photo on Flickriver

Khan Kubla

Khan Kubla

A Fragment
or A Vision In A Dream

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge [sort of]

And drunk the milk of Paradise
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And close your eyes with holy dread
Weave a circle round him thrice
His flashing eyes, his floating hair
And all should cry Beware! Beware
And all who heard should see them there
That sunny dome! those caves of ice
I would build that dome in air
That with music loud and long

To such a deep delight 'twould win me
Her symphony and song
Could I revive within me
Singing of Mount Abora
And on her dulcimer she played
It was an Abyssinian maid
In a vision once I saw
A damsel with a dulcimer

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice
It was a miracle of rare device

From the fountain and the caves
Where was heard the mingled measure
Floated midway on the waves
The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Ancestral voices prophesying war
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean
Then reached the caverns measureless to man
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
It flung up momently the sacred river
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
A mighty fountain momently was forced
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething
By woman wailing for her demon-lover
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
A savage place as holy and enchanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery
And here were forests ancient as the hills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
With walls and towers were girdled round
So twice five miles of fertile ground

Down to a sunless sea

Through caverns measureless to man
Where Alph the sacred river ran
A stately pleasure-dome decree

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A recent news story of the discovery of Kubla Khan's summer capital, Xanadu, compelled me to look up more about it. Turns out it wasn't unknown at all. There's plenty about it on the Web, including photos and descriptions of the ruins. Another news story suggests to me that Archaeology News' interpretation of the original Chinese press release - that Xanadu was just discovered [i.e., "This report from China claims that archaeologists have discovered Xanadu, the city built by the Mongol emperor Kublai Khan in 1256"] was a mistake, and that the story was really that the layout of the city and its major structures has been more fully mapped. I reread the original story and, in that context, it makes sense.

Ok. That said, here's the point:

After all that, I then bunny-hopped to Coleridge's poem, Kubla Khan.

After refreshing my memory on the work, I wondered what the poem would read like with its lines in reverse order. I removed all punctuation that I could, only leaving in what was absolutely necessary, such as in a line of composed of two sentences that would make the reader stumble because of obvious grammatical devices indicating there were two sentences there. Other than that, reversing the line order, and the loss of indents – I have yet to find a way to indent in the description area of a flickr image (I added an extra row between sections indented in the original poem, which is the best I could do to indicate a difference in form from non-indented text) - the poem is the same as Coleridge’s.

What made me think to do this in the first place? To reverse the line order?

In a poetry reading venue years ago I read my poem "A Dream". When I finished, a fellow poet said "Now read it backwards." I did, and at the end of it we were wowed, with the fellow poet remarking "I like it better that way." And so both versions wound up on facing pages in my first book Hit Head On (which, btw, one Amazon Marketplace vendor is selling, used, for $109.41 plus shipping - heck, if it would actually sell for that price, I still have five boxes of them I'd be glad to let go...). :)

Upon reading Kubla Khan again, experiencing the vivid, wild imagery, the idea came to me: I wonder what it would be like in reverse order?

The fragmented storyline that resulted, with a new sequence that is even more like an opium dream - more incoherent - also created new vivid imagery in re-pairing images evoked through the words of each line in different ways. That's what made my reversed-line poem so neat, too. Instead of the more laid-out surreality of the original line sequence of Kubla Khan, in the reversed-order version the reader is on a storyline journey down a sheer and rugged slope, where, in order to continue through, the feat must be accomplished by leaping successively from rock ledge to rock ledge. The reader has to make the leap to connect them for his journey to continue to the end. And even if the reader had assessed which two or three rock ledges next to jump to, maybe getting a feel for where his journey is taking him, when he actually arrives on that next ledge through many successive leaps, his perspective is different - different than it was on the prior ledges - so he finds each time that he's going by a different route than he'd earlier thought.

I like that nature of journey. It's adventure. Adventure in the literary landscape... :)

Oh... one last thing... The image used to evoke/illustrate "Khan Kubla" is a combination of two different photos I took of ice. (Take a look at the image in the large or the original size.) The pleasure dome is a real image of a flower encased in ice. See that and more fantastical ice images in my Ice set.

For reference, here’s Coleridge’s Kubla Khan in its original order and punctuation:

Kubla Khan

Or A Vision In A Dream.
A Fragment

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

[Poem text is from here.]

Taken on: February 6, 2009

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