Spoon River Anthology

(Hesperus Classics - Poetry)

Average vote of 8400
| 50 total contributions of which 35 reviews , 15 quotes , 0 images , 0 notes , 0 video
HENRY got me with child, Knowing that I could not bring forth life Without losing my own. In my youth therefore I entered the portals of dust. Traveler, it is believed in the village where I lived That Henry loved me with a husband's love But I procl ...Continua
Ha scritto il 24/07/17
ho trovato molti miei punti in comune con questa opera. è interessante scoprire le storie dietro gli epitaffi.
Ha scritto il 29/05/17
non l'ho finito
un libro di poesie, di queste poesie non si finisce mai di leggere, è lì accoccolato sul mio comodino e quando sento che è l'ora lo sfoglio e godo della sua narrazione enchanting
  • 1 mi piace
Ha scritto il 26/06/14
Kissing her with my soul upon my lips. It suddently took flight.
  • 1 mi piace
Ha scritto il 29/03/14
Francis Turner
I could not run or play
In boyhood.
In manhood I could only sip the cup,
Not drink -
For scarlet-fever left my heart diseased.
Yet I lie here
Soothed by a secret none but Mary knows:
There is a ga
...Continua
Ha scritto il 28/08/13
Nella traduzione di Fernanda Pivano che vedete a fianco sullo scaffale ebbe un successo strepitoso in Italia dove il libro è più conosciuto e apprezzato che negli Stati Uniti. Uno di quei casi in cui la traduzione, trapiantata in un altro paese, ha a ...Continua
  • 1 mi piace

Ha scritto il Apr 14, 2009, 19:53
Isaiah Beethoven

They told me I had three months to live,
So I crept to Bernadotte,
And sat by the mill for hours and hours
Where the gathered waters deeply moving
Seemed not to move:
O world, that's you!
You are b

They told me I had three months to live,
So I crept to Bernadotte,
And sat by the mill for hours and hours
Where the gathered waters deeply moving
Seemed not to move:
O world, that's you!
You are but a widened place in the river
Where life looks down and we rejoice for her
Mirrored in us, and so we dream
And turn away, but when again
We look for the face, behold the low-lands
And blasted cotton-woods trees where we empty
Into the larger stream!
But here by the mill the castled clouds
Mocked themselves in the dizzy water;
And over its agate floor at night
The flame of the moon ran under my eyes
Amid a forest stillness broken
By a flute in a hut on the hill.
At last when I came to lie in bed
Weak and in pain, with the dreams about me,
The soul of the river had entered my soul,
And the gathered power of my soul was moving
So swiftly it seemed to be at rest
Under cities of cloud and under
Spheres of silver and changing worlds -
Until I saw a flash of trumpets
Above the battlements over Time! ...Continua

Ha scritto il Apr 14, 2009, 19:44
Seth Compton

(...)
"What is the use of knowing the evil in the world?"
I am out of your way now, Spoon River,
Choose your own good and call it good.
For I could never make you see
That no one knows what is good
Who

(...)
"What is the use of knowing the evil in the world?"
I am out of your way now, Spoon River,
Choose your own good and call it good.
For I could never make you see
That no one knows what is good
Who knows not what s evil;
And no one knows what is true
Who knows not what is false. ...Continua

Ha scritto il Apr 14, 2009, 19:41
Mary McNeely

Passer-by,
To love is to find your own soul
Through the soul of the beloved one.
When the beloved one withdraws itself from your soul
Then you have lost your soul.
It is written :"I have a friend,
But

Passer-by,
To love is to find your own soul
Through the soul of the beloved one.
When the beloved one withdraws itself from your soul
Then you have lost your soul.
It is written :"I have a friend,
But my sorrow has no friend"
(...) ...Continua

Ha scritto il Apr 14, 2009, 19:38
George Gray

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me -
A boat with a furled sail at rest in harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from i

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me -
A boat with a furled sail at rest in harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
but life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire -
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid. ...Continua

Ha scritto il Feb 19, 2009, 13:56
George Gray

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiselled for me -
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth is pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shr

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiselled for me -
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth is pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire -
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid. ...Continua

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