Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
311–320 of 369 posts
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#312Philip Larkin. Almost everything he wrote.
Robert Frost.
Ted Hughes. The Birthday Letters. Esp. "You Hated Spain" [3]
T S Elliot. Four Quartets. Preludes.
[1] http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A17245-2004Aug...
[2] http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179559
[3] https://philosopherpoet.wordpress.com/2008/04/05/you-hated-s...
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#313Poems > Poets "The Abnormal is Not Courage" The Poles rode out from Warsaw against the German tanks on horses. Rode knowing, in sunlight, with sabers, A magnitude of beauty that allows me no peace. And yet this poem would lessen that day. Question the bravery. Say it's not courage. Call it a passion. Would say courage isn't that. Not at its best. It was impossible, and with form. They rode in sunlight, Were mangled.…
More: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge_at_Krojanty
Not that it matters for poetry.
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#314Neruda is my favourite. I want to do to you , what the spring does to the cherry trees. Here's another one Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. How he is able construct such powerful verse out of simple words and concepts always blows me away. Though it looks easy I've never seen a good imitation of his style. Then there's this poem by Phillip Larkin that I like. They fu…
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#315I like Rimbaud quite a lot: "The star wept rose-colored [. . .]" The star wept rose-colored in the heart of your ears, The infinite rolled white from your nape to your loins The sea turned ruddy at your vermilion nipples And Man bled black on your sovereign flank. Another: "The wolf howled under the leaves [. . .]" The wolf howled under the leaves As he spat out the fine feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consu…
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#316 THE CRUTCHES
Seven years I could not walk a step.
When I to the great physician came
He demanded: Why the crutches?
And I told him: I am lame.
He replied: That's not surprising.
Be so good and try once more.
If you're lame, it's those contraptions.
Fall then! Crawl across the floor!
And he took my lovely crutches
Laughing with a fiend's grimace
Broke them both across my back and
Threw them in the fireplace.
Well, I'm cured now: I can walk.
Cured by nothing more than laughter.
Sometimes, though, when I see sticks
I walk worse for some hours after.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#317 Lullaby
W. H. Auden, 1907 - 1973
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit’s carnal ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#318Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#319Earlier quoted context omitted.
"I want to do to you , what the spring does to the cherry trees." I've never seen that in english, so I looked it up ( http://albalearning.com/audiolibros/neruda/poema14-sp-en.htm... ) I guess it goes without saying, but english really doesn't do him justice, rhyming trees with kisses is pretty poor compared to cerizos and besos which is perfect rhyme. But I suppose poetry is about the most difficult thing to transla…
> cerizos and besos which is perfect rhyme Since letters in Spanish have only one sound, '-izos' and '-esos' cannot be made to rhyme without distorting the pronunciation of one of the words. I don't see how that makes 'perfect' rhyme.