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Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money, either.
There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money, either.
Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a read more
Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language.
For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.
For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all read more
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with read more
CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with names
of bears and dogs, a swan, a virgin;
other planets that the Voyager showed
were like and so unlike our own,
with all their diverse moons,
bright discs, weird rings, and cratered faces;
comets with their streaming tails
bent by pressure from our sun;
the skyscape of our Milky Way
holding in its shimmering disc
an infinity of suns
(or say a thousand billion);
knowing there are holes of darkness
gulping mass and even light,
knowing that this galaxy of ours
is one of multitudes
in what we call the heavens,
it troubles me. It troubles me.
-President Jimmy Carter- (he has written a volume of poetry as well as a novel, The Hornet's Nest,
about the Revolutionary War).
As civilization advances, poetry almost necessarily declines.
As civilization advances, poetry almost necessarily declines.
Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.
Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.