Thursday, 14 of December of 2017

Tag » spring

William Wordsworth – Daffodils

Wordsworth's Daffodils3
Wordsworth's Daffodils2
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 
 


Wordsworth's Daffodils


Theodore Roethke – Being Not Doing

From Wiki: “His father, Otto, was a German immigrant, a market-gardener who owned a large local 25 acre greenhouse, along with his brother. Much of Theodore’s childhood was spent in this greenhouse, as reflected by the use of natural images in his poetry.
 
Roethke smilingThe poet’s adolescent years were jarred, however, by his uncle’s suicide and by the death of his father from cancer, both in early 1923, when Theodore was only 14. These deaths shaped Roethke’s psyche and creative life.
 
 
Roethke responded powerfully to the confinement of nature, he later even wrote, “They were to me both heaven and hell, a kind of tropics created in the savage climate of Michigan, where austere German Americans turned their love of order and their terrifying efficiency into something beautiful.”
 
 
Theodore Roethke (1908–1963) wrote of his poetry: The greenhouse “is my symbol for the whole of life, a womb, a heaven-on-earth.””
 
 
 

I thirst by day. I watch by night.
I receive! I have been received!
I hear the flowers drinking in their light,
I have taken counsel of the crab and the sea-urchin,
I recall the falling of small waters,
The streams slipping between the mossy logs,
Winding down to the stretch of irregular sand,
The great logs piled like matchsticks.

I am most immoderately married:
The Lord God has taken my heaviness away:
I have merged, like the bird, with the bright air,
And my thought flies to the place by the bo-tree.

Being, not doing, is my first job.


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