By Robert Bly
Read or Download My Sentence Was a Thousand Years of Joy: Poems PDF
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A special collaboration among top poets and scientists, modern Poetry and modern technology demonstrates via its shape, and during perform in addition to mirrored image, that poetry and technological know-how can meet with effective effects. Crossing among disciplines, and among prose and verse, the booklet exhibits how modes of medical wisdom and of poetic making remain intertwined.
WILLIAM BLAKE (1757-1827)
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TO THE night STAR.
SONG. HOW candy I ROAM’D FROM box TO FIELD.
SONG. MY SILKS AND superb ARRAY.
SONG. LOVE AND concord COMBINE.
SONG. i like THE JOCUND DANCE.
SONG. reminiscence, HITHER COME.
MAD music. THE WILD WINDS WEEP.
SONG. clean FROM THE DEWY HILL, THE MERRY YEAR.
SONG. while EARLY MORN WALKS FORTH IN SOBER GRAY.
TO THE MUSES.
GWIN, KING OF NORWAY.
AN IMITATION OF SPENSER.
KING EDWARD THE THIRD.
PROLOGUE meant FOE A DRAMATIC PIECE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH.
PROLOGUE TO KING JOHN.
A battle track TO ENGLISHMEN.
THE sofa OF DEATH.
Antonio Machado (1875–1939) is Spain’s grasp poet, the explorer of dream and panorama, and of awareness under language. extensively considered as the best 20th century poet who wrote in Spanish, Machado—like his modern Rilke—is intensely introspective and meditative.
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Extra resources for My Sentence Was a Thousand Years of Joy: Poems
When I hear the sitar give out the story of its life, I know it is telling me how to behave—while kissing The dear one’s feet, to weep over my wasted life. Robert, this poem will soon be over; and you Are like a twig trembling on the lip of the falls. Like a note of music, you are about to become nothing. 53 Listening to Old Music The Rudra Vina I don’t know what would bring me closer to you. Maybe slowing down this music, maybe waking In the middle of the night, maybe diving for the bottom. Maybe silence.
Let’s give up the notion that great music is a way Of praising human beings. It’s good to agree that one drop Of ocean water holds all of Kierkegaard’s prayers. When I hear the sitar give out the story of its life, I know it is telling me how to behave—while kissing The dear one’s feet, to weep over my wasted life. Robert, this poem will soon be over; and you Are like a twig trembling on the lip of the falls. Like a note of music, you are about to become nothing. 53 Listening to Old Music The Rudra Vina I don’t know what would bring me closer to you.
It’s all right if the boat I love never reaches shore. If we’re already so close to death, why should we complain? Robert, you’ve climbed so many trees to reach the nests. It’s all right if you grow your wings on the way down. 23 Tightening the Cinch Hurry, for the horses are galloping along the road. Our death is being saddled now. They are tightening the cinch. ” Come, only a moment is left, the sun is touching The sea at Point Lobos; those waves that Jeffers knew Will soon wear the Lincolnish coats of night!