Second AprilM. Kennerley, 1921 - 110 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Second April– And, The Buck in the Snow [and Other Poems] Edna St. Vincent Millay Ribota peržiūra - 1950 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alleluia ashes BEAN-STALK Beauty beloved blue and tall BLUE-FLAG Boys and girls breast breath bright crying dead DEATH OF AUTUMN door dream dust ELEGY BEFORE DEATH eyes flame flower forever forevermore forgotten freshet frogs garden Gay the lights girls that held gone grass And close Greece green grey hand and rescue hear heart held her dear Hell hill They took hollow ledge isn't a train knee knew laughter Lesbia libation LITTLE HILL lovers Lullabye-lullabye lyre MEMORIAL TO D. C. Minstrel mullein night OBERON ODE TO SILENCE pass PASSER MORTUUS pause perished young Persephone POET THAT DIED quiet road rose sake sea once SECOND APRIL secret earth seed singing sleep smile song soul sound Spring stalk sunny sweet Thalia things tide VINCENT MILLAY walked wander watch weeds weeping WILD SWANS wind winter withered WRAITH
Populiarios ištraukos
92 psl. - Elegy Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair, — All of these in some way, surely, From the secret earth shall rise. Not for these I sit and stare, Broken and bereft completely; Your young flesh that sat so neatly On your little bones will sweetly Blossom in the air. But your voice, — never the rushing Of a river underground, Not the rising of the wind In the trees before the rain, Not the woodcock's watery call,...
43 psl. - When these veins are weeds, When these hollowed sockets Watch the rooty seeds Bursting down like rockets, And surmise the spring again, Or, remote in that black cupboard, Watch the pink worms writhing upward At the smell of rain, Boys and girls that lie Whispering in the hedges, Do not let me die, Mix me with your pledges; Boys and girls that slowly walk In the woods, and weep, and quarrel, Staring past the pink wild laurel, Mix me with your talk, Do not let me die!
1 psl. - To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death.
94 psl. - ... children pushing Yellow leaves along the gutters In the blue and bitter fall, Shall content my musing mind For the beauty of that sound That in no new way at all Ever will be heard again. Sweetly through the sappy stalk Of the vigorous weed, Holding all it held before, Cherished by the faithful sun, On and on eternally Shall your altered fluid run, Bud and bloom and go to seed; But your singing days are done; But the music of your talk Never shall the chemistry Of the secret earth restore. All...
110 psl. - Cherish you then the hope I shall forget At length, my lord, Pieria? - put away For your so passing sake, this mouth of clay, These mortal bones against my body set, For all the puny fever and frail sweat Of human love, - renounce for these, I say, The Singing Mountain's memory, and betray The silent lyre that hangs upon me yet? Ah, but indeed, some day shall you awake, Rather, from dreams of me, that at your side So many nights, a lover and a bride, But stern in my soul's chastity, have lain, To...
106 psl. - And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head, This body of flame and steel, before the gust Of Death, or under his autumnal frost, Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead Than the first leaf that fell, - this wonder fled, Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost. Nor shall my love avail you in your hour. In spite of all my love, you will arise Upon that day and wander down the air Obscurely as the unattended flower, It...
100 psl. - Into the golden vessel of great song Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast Let other lovers lie, in love and rest; Not we, — articulate, so, but with the tongue Of all the world: the churning blood, the long Shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed Sharply together upon the escaping guest, The common soul, unguarded, and grown strong. Longing alone is singer to the lute; Let still on nettles in the open sigh The minstrel, that in slumber is as mute As any man, and love be far and...
41 psl. - This my subtle spirit's end?— Ah, when the thawed winter splashes Over these chance dust and ashes, Weep not me, my friend! Me, by no means dead In that hour, but surely When this book, unread, Rots to earth obscurely, And no more to any breast, Close against the clamorous swelling Of the thing there is no telling, Are these pages pressed!
65 psl. - I'll make you little jackets ; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco ; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank ; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, And the dead be forgotten ; Life must go on, Though good men die ; Anne, eat your breakfast ; Dan, take your medicine ; Life must go on ; I forget just why.
42 psl. - Stranger, pause and look; From the dust of ages Lift this little book, Turn the tattered pages, Read me, do not let me die!