by Pablo Neruda translated by W. S. Merwin Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, “The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.” The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write...
A poem which is currently taped to the cupboard above the toaster oven. Has been for at least six months. I still haven’t managed to memorize it, but I’ve spent some time pondering it, at least. To hear an Oriole sing May be a common...
an excerpt from the Flight into Egypt section of For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio by W.H. Auden I posted this two years ago and fell in love with it and went and bought the book. And I still haven’t finished reading the whole thing...
by Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh He can still hear it: the glaciers rasping, their ratcheting in the distance, the snow-quiet. And still he remembers gulping unsullied freshness to clarify his lungs, the holy coldness blessing his skin. He gave his...
Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells...
