Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?

Post by anonymfus » Tue, Mar 31, 2015, 1:32 PM UTC

realitygrill wrote: post #227

fallinghawks wrote: post #60

Earlier quoted context omitted.

I'm not Russian and I like Lermontov :)

Same, but I'm more partial to Pushkin :)

Post by csvlt » Tue, Mar 31, 2015, 2:56 PM UTC

m_alexgr wrote: post #100

THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience) By William Blake Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare sieze the fire? And what shoulder, & what art. Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & w…

    Little Fly
    Thy summer's play,
    My thoughtless hand
    Has brush'd away.

    Am not I
    A fly like thee?
    Or art not thou
    A man like me?

    For I dance
    And drink & sing;
    Till some blind hand
    Shall brush my wing.

    If thought is life
    And strength & breath;
    And the want
    Of thought is death;

    Then am I
    A happy fly,
    If I live,
    Or if I die.

Post by [deleted] » Tue, Mar 31, 2015, 3:02 PM UTC

Post by brandonlipman » Tue, Mar 31, 2015, 3:51 PM UTC

  O Nature! I do not aspire
  To be the highest in thy choir, -
  To be a meteor in thy sky,
  Or comet that may range on high;
  Only a zephyr that may blow
  Among the reeds by the river low;
  Give me thy most privy place
  Where to run my airy race.

  In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
  Let me sigh upon a reed,
  Or in the woods, with leafy din,
  Whisper the still evening in:
  Some still work give me to do, -
  Only - be it near to you!

  For I'd rather be thy child
  And pupil, in the forest wild,
  Than be the king of men elsewhere,
  And most sovereign slave of care;
  To have one moment of thy dawn,
  Than share the city's year forlorn.

  COME, my tan-faced children,
  Follow well in order, get your weapons ready;
  Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes?
  Pioneers! O pioneers!

  For we cannot tarry here,	 
  We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,	         
  We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,  
  Pioneers! O pioneers! ...

Post by daveslash » Tue, Mar 31, 2015, 5:46 PM UTC

avn2109 wrote: post #205

throwaway43 wrote: post #7

Neruda 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…

+1 for Coleridge, especially the first stanza of Kubla Khan [0]. Also, I'm surprised to see nobody here recommending A.E. Houseman. His Reveille is my favorite poem: ... Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying: Hear the drums of morning play; Hark, the empty highways crying 'Who'll beyond the hills away?' ... [0] http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173247