strains impotently to flow again. We are brought very close to Schubert when the elaborate metaphor of the "spring ice/yawing on its tethers" gives way to the colloquial intimacy of the exclamation, "You poor soul." The man is "quite bare" and painfully visible in those quickly sketched details: the spectacles, the "soiled bed". There is no sentimental suggestion that, because he has written transcendental music, his death doesn't matter.("Schubertiad" is from Fiona Sampson's fine recent collection Rough Music and is reprinted by kind permission of the author and Carcanet.)
Schubertiad
After the String Quintet in C, D956
from Carol Rumens/Fiona Sampson: The Guardian: Books blog: Poem of the week
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