A Sundial In A Grave is a project by Black Henbane

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Sweetest Love I Do Not Go

The Message

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Witchcraft by a Picture

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On MySpace there is a group with the name “John Donne Sucks!“

Well, most poets do if you are forced to read them. Nobody ever forced me to read John Donne. I just happened to come across a selection of his poems many years ago, when I was still a teenager, without even having heard his name before, and from that very day on, John Donne has been one of my most trustworthy companions.

Seems this guy knew everything. His poetry is so modern, enlightened, lush, ironical, sceptical and cynical in a positive sense that one wonders why the rest of the western world needed another 400 years to come to the same conclusions. And still, many of those “cool” poems are very emotional, touching and of a magical power. They open your eyes for many relations in the world of words and things and feelings.

Of course, if you live at the brink of starvation half of your life, have twelve children, serve in Her Majesties navy and fight against the Spaniards, if you are London’s most notorious womaniser and then give your career an interesting turn by becoming the dean of St. Paul’s and England’s most famous preacher who preaches his last sermon wrapped in his shroud six weeks before his death, you should have some stories to tell.

Already when I read his poems for the second or third time I started hearing melodies. Those verses were written to be sung, not only read. Their structure already provides you with that for a song and all the bizarre rhythmic ideas make sure it won’t be too boring. When I write my own songs, the lyrics always come last; I fit them to the tunes. No poet ever seduced me to set his lines to music. Only John Donne did. To my knowledge (and much to my surprise) not many composers have played with this material (though Benjamin Britten is among them!).

Of course, for me there was no chance not to make many mistakes with such an ambitious scheme. To have put the great John Donne into my Folk Punk grinding mill will earn me the disgrace of many a professor. My modern British-American bastard English with 17th century grammar and a German accent will be a horror to every purist. But I think I can bear this, and John Donne can’t sue me anymore.

It would make me happy if some of you liked this impudent project and especially if it was strong enough to lure you into the intriguing world of John Donne’s poetry (unless you already inhabit it).

And if you don't like it? Well, then go and found another MySpace group with the name "Black Henbane sucks, too".