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Shorties and epigrams
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- DWill
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When shall the stars be blown about the sky
Like the sparks blown out a smithy, and die?
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
--W.B Yeats, "The Secret Rose"
O she had not these ways
When all the wild summer was in her gaze.
O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head,
You'd know the folly of being comforted.
--Yeats, "The Folly of Being Comforted"
That had she done so who can say
What would have shaken from the sieve?
I might have thrown poor words away
And been content to live.
--Yeats, "Words"
Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither away into the truth.
--Yeats, "The Coming of Wisdom with Time" (the poem in its entirety)
Like the sparks blown out a smithy, and die?
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
--W.B Yeats, "The Secret Rose"
O she had not these ways
When all the wild summer was in her gaze.
O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head,
You'd know the folly of being comforted.
--Yeats, "The Folly of Being Comforted"
That had she done so who can say
What would have shaken from the sieve?
I might have thrown poor words away
And been content to live.
--Yeats, "Words"
Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither away into the truth.
--Yeats, "The Coming of Wisdom with Time" (the poem in its entirety)
- Saffron
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- I can has reading?
- Posts: 2954
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 8:37 pm
- 16
- Location: Randolph, VT
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Whenever I read a Pablo Neruda poem, or any other that is a translation from another language, I wonder how it sounds in its original intended sequence of sounds. What I mean is, I love the sound of some poems in English -- it just tickles me to no end to listen again and again. I've never had this experience with a translated poem. This thought was especially at the fore of my mind, in that The Waste Land and The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (both Eliot) are two of my favorites to listen to out loud.realiz wrote:Leaning Into The Afternoons by Pablo Neruda
The night, gallops on its shadowy mare
Shedding blue tassels over the land.
DWill: Beautiful selections. I've never read any of the poems you posted lines from. In fact, I am not really very familiar with Yeats -- other than The Second Coming -- another of my favorite out loud poems.