I went to visit Henry Kendall
in Sydney’s Botanic Gardens,
seeking his help with a poem.
His memorial, etched with quotation,
was not encouraging: “All my days
have been the days of a laborious life
“And ever on my struggling soul has burnt
the fierce light of this hurried sphere.”
The seat was wet. I cursed him and left.
Later, in the fernery’s green shade, lines
of my poem slipped out
between the dappling fronds.
This poem is ostensibly about the Australian poet Henry Kendall, but it’s actually about my love of Sydney’s Domain and Royal Botanic Gardens.
Henry Kendall was a much-loved Sydney poet from the mid 19th and early 20thcenturies. To mark the centenary of his birth, in 1939 an Art Deco-style memorial was built in Sydney’s Botanic Gardens. Made of local sandstone, it has a wooden seat backed by a wall with two winged horses framing that particularly gloomy quotation from one of his poems.
Growing up in Tasmania, I knew absolutely nothing of Henry Kendall; we studied English poets and a few Anglo-American ones: WH Auden, TS Eliot. The only Australian poet we read was Henry Lawson. However, I understand that generations of New South Wales schoolchildren have learned and loved Kendall’s poems describing the beauties of the bush.
Since moving to Sydney 20 years ago, I’ve become very fond of Sydney’s Domain and Royal Botanic Gardens as places to walk and meditate in. Kendall isn’t the only Australian poet commemorated here; there is a statue of Henry Lawson on a hillock of the Domain overlooking former naval base at Woolloomooloo. Every year a group of enthusiasts celebrate Lawson’s birthday, singing some of his poems set to folk music, (often competing with the sardonic screeching of white cockatoos).
More contemporary Sydney poets are marked by copies of their poems encased in glass in a grove of young eucalypts, or in parts of the Botanic Gardens referenced in their poems. It would be a huge honour if ever one of my poems was recognised in this way, but I don’t think this one will make the cut.
Over the years I’ve taken several photos of Kendall’s memorial, but none have turned out useable. It’s remarkably hard to photograph! The photo above is better than any of mine.
I’ve also taken many, many photos inside the fernery, trying to capture the light and shade, and particularly the ripples on the pool. This is one of my better ones.
The typed document you can see at the bottom is a copy of one of Eileen Chong’s poems, about ferns, written in that fernery.