Hi Bree: What a great piece of trivia! I'm picturing that dinner now.
I bought Spender's book
Dolphins (a collection of 19 poems) for a friend's birthday and enjoyed it so much, I bought a copy for myself. Spender was a prominent member of the literary group that included W. H. Auden, Christopher Isherwood and Cecil Day Lewis. Spender was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 1982 for his enduring contribution to English literature.
Jjorge: Thank you for reviving my interest in poetry. I've been away from it too long.
Raggedyaggie
I'm delighted if I've helped, in some small way, to rekindle your interest in poetry.
There are a number of poetry devotees here at A2K, so you'll be in good company.... bree for example. (Hi bree!)
Raggedyaggie, bree, et al
We are having a conversation about poetry on this thread that you might find interesting:
http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=2647&highlight=
jjorge:
I mean the poetry buried in journals like Oncology Times.
Thanks for the link, Jjorge. It certainly is an informative thread. I'll be following it closely
.
New Haven
Oh I get it!
(no, not the Oncology Times I don't get that)
Here is a poignant poem by the Irishman, Valentin Iremonger.
I am wondering what to make of the last line in the second stanza:
"...Yet, sorry only that the meaning eluded him."
'Hector'
Talking to her, he knew it was the end,
The last time he'd speed her into sleep with kisses:
Achilles had it in for him and was fighting mad.
The roads of his longing she again wandered,
A girl desirable as midsummer's day.
He was a marked man and he knew it,
Being no match for Achilles whom the gods were backing.
Sadly he spoke to her for hours, his heart
Snapping like sticks, she on his shoulder crying.
Yet, sorry only that the meaning eluded him.
He slept well all night, having carressed
Andromache like a flower, though in a dream he saw
A body lying on the sands, huddled and bleeding,
Near the feet a sword in bits and by the head
An upturned, dented helmet.
(Valentin Iremonger)
First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(1920)
Where Are The War Poets?
They who in folly or mere greed
Enslaved religion, markets, laws,
Borrow our language now and bid
Us to speak up in freedom's cause.
It is the logic of our times,
No subject for immortal verse-
That we who lived by honest dreams
Defend the bad against the worse.
C. Day Lewis ( 1943 )
