From “Cold Hills”
*
I have lived so long
On the cold hills alone …
I loved the rock
And the lean pine trees,
Hated the life in the turfy meadow,
Hated the heavy, sensuous bees. Devamını Oku
Tag Archive: yabancı şairlerden şiirler
Suddenly / by Sharon Olds
And suddenly, it’s today, it’s this morning
they are putting Ruth into the earth,
her breasts going down, under the hill,
like the moon and sun going down together. Devamını Oku
The Bride Tree Can’t Be Read / by Brenda Hillman
The bride tree puts down its roots
below the phyla. It is there
when we die & when we are born,
middle & upper branches reaching
the planet heart by the billions
during a revolution we don’t see. Devamını Oku
My Childhood / by Matthew Zapruder
the orange ball arcs perfectly into the orange hoop
making a sound like a drawer closing
you will never get to hold that
I am here and nothing terrible will ever happen
across the street the giant white house full of kids
turns the pages of an endless book
the mother comes home and finds the child animal sleeping Devamını Oku
Self-Portrait in a Wire Jacket / by Monica Youn
To section off
is to intensify,
to deaden.
Some surfaces
cannot be salvaged.
Leave them
to lose function,
to persist only
Devamını Oku
Wonder Cabinet / by Tina Chang
I opened the silver pronged evening and translated
the great song of the Industrial Age. Each night
I hoped it would tell a different ending. Each time
it sang a song, sadder than I would have imagined. Devamını Oku
It was a hard thing to undo this knot / by Gerard Manley Hopkins
It was a hard thing to undo this knot.
The rainbow shines, but only in the thought
Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,
For who makes rainbows by invention? Devamını Oku
from Please Bury Me in This / by Allison Benis White
Maybe my arms lifted as a woman lowers a dress over my head.
This is not what I want to tell you.
Excelsior / by Walt Whitman
Who has gone farthest? for I would go farther,
And who has been just? for I would be the most just person of the Devamını Oku
Getting Close / by Victoria Redel
Because my mother loved pocketbooks
I come alive at the opening click or close of a metal clasp. Devamını Oku
Permanence / by Denise Duhamel
The barista at the coffee shop is covered in tattoos. She says there are only two ways they hold her back. 1. She can’t work at Starbucks. 2. She can’t wear a corsage, since she’d just be way too busy, and this makes me laugh. She says no to gifts from prom dates–the wrist corsage, the pinned corsage; no to bridal bouquets, the get-well-soon carnations. One day soon her mother will insist on sympathy wreaths around her coffin, which is closed, lest she be confused with the flowers. Devamını Oku
Summer in the South / by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid and hesitating. Devamını Oku
from The Princess / [Sweet and low, sweet and low] by Lord Alfred Tennyson
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Devamını Oku
Proximity / by Randall Mann
Out of the fog comes a little white bus.
It ferries us south to the technical mouth
of the bay. This is biopharma, Double Helix Way. Devamını Oku
