General

Any poetry lovers out there?

Anyone particularly fond of Heaney the following is quite a good series of interviews with him. (Less from a poetry point of view more from a personal interest slant). www.rte.ie/player/ie/show/10194512/
He comes across as the most normal, down to earth individual. He genuinely gets embarrassed when they start to discuss his Nobel prize. What a great person and incredible lyric poet
11 years

Any poetry lovers out there?

I really quite enjoy poetry. One of my favorites is a French poem called Le pont Mirabeau by Guillaume Apollinaire.

Here's a link to it. unix.cc.wmich.edu/~cooneys/poems/fr/Mirabeau.html
11 years

Any poetry lovers out there?

I do love neutral tones by Thomas Hardy. And a lot of war poetry.smiley
11 years

Any poetry lovers out there?

Here's a poem that I only discovered today, but I think it's already among my favorites.

Woodman, Spare That Tree!

By George Pope Morris


WOODMAN, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I ’ll protect it now.
’T was my forefather’s hand 5
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not.

That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown 10
Are spread o’er land and sea—
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that aged oak 15
Now towering to the skies!

When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played. 20
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand—
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.

My heart-strings round thee cling, 25
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot; 30
While I ’ve a hand to save,
Thy axe shall harm it not.
11 years

Any poetry lovers out there?

Angelique wrote:
OniGumo wrote:
Here's a poem that I only discovered today, but I think it's already among my favorites.

Woodman, Spare That Tree!

By George Pope Morris


WOODMAN, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I ’ll protect it now.
’T was my forefather’s hand 5
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not.

That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown 10
Are spread o’er land and sea—
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that aged oak 15
Now towering to the skies!

When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played. 20
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand—
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.

My heart-strings round thee cling, 25
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot; 30
While I ’ve a hand to save,
Thy axe shall harm it not.


Wow. Amazing poem. <3


It brings a tear to my eye every time I read it.
11 years