Two More Summer Poems

From About.com Poetry:

I Know I Am But Summer to Your Heart

Edna St. Vincent Millary

I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of spring.

Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.

 

Carl Sandburg

Back Yard

Carl Sandburg

Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under your rain to-night.

An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.
A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month;
to-night they are throwing you kisses.

An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a
cherry tree in his back yard.

The clocks say I must go—I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking
white thoughts you rain down.

Shine on, O moon,
Shake out more and more silver changes.

 

Two Summer Poems

From About.com Poetry:

In the Mountains on a Summer Day
Li Po, translated by Arthur Waley

Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.

 

Poem 1386
Emily Dickinson

Summer — we all have seen —
A few of us — believed —
A few — the more aspiring
Unquestionably loved —

But Summer does not care —
She goes her spacious way
As eligible as the moon
To our Temerity —

The Doom to be adored —
The Affluence conferred —
Unknown as to an Ecstasy
The Embryo endowed —

 

New York City in 17 Syllables

6train

On the 6 to Spring
two cops help a tourist whose
map is upside down

Frances Richey, 63, Manhattan

From The New York Times:

For National Poetry Month, The New York Times asked readers to write haiku about the city: three lines of five, seven and five syllables. The response — more than 2,800 submissions in 10 days — was as impressive, and as exhausting, as the city itself. Writers were asked to stick to six subjects: the island, strangers, solitude, commuting, 6 a.m. and kindness. Beyond that, poems could be fashioned from whatever inspiration the five boroughs provided.

Click here to read more.

 

The Ways Our Sonnets Flow

poet reading

April was National Poetry Month. Our E3 class wrote a booklet of poems (sonnets). Here’s one by Leonardo Castillo:

Oh Money!

There are people that adore money
It is their honey
They are drunk on success
They don’t know the stress
They don’t feel any pain
If it isn’t related to their gain
They can work the whole day
Without ever hitting the hay
They want to own the water
To control the world better
They dream about how it would be sold
As a way to amass a lot of gold
And the most important issue, they think
Is to exhibit their wives wrapped in mink

Leonardo Castillo

Click on the picture below to read more. Comment and let us know which ones are your favorite – you can even write your own sonnet! Enjoy!

sonnetcover

Perfect Poem for Fall

Sonnet 73

by William Shakespeare

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the deathbed whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

mayst = may

see’st = see

fadeth – fades

doth = does

whereon = on which

perceive’st – perceive / see

thy = your

thou = you

ere = before

Sonnet 73

by William Shakespeare

你可望见我身上的秋天,

光秃秃的枝条,焦叶悬颤,

冷冷、空空、倾圮的唱诗坛-

可爱的鸟儿曾啁啾婉啭。

你可见到我身上的黄昏,

如落日在西天渐渐消隐;

未几,黑夜-取代死神化身,

于安息之中将万物封存。

你可见到我身上的火光,

在其青春的余烬上卧躺,

它定将熄灭于临终之床,

连同其燃烧物一起消亡。

明乎此,你的爱会更浓烈,

好好爱吧-不久,你将离别。

Soneto 73

by William Shakespeare 

En mí puedes ver esa estación del año

en que hojas amarillas —pocas, o ninguna—

cuelgan de las ramas que tiemblan contra el viento,

desnudos coros en ruinas donde, al atardecer, los pajaros cantaban.

En mí ves la penumbra de ese día

que después del ocaso se hace tenue 

en el oeste. La noche, esa otra muerte, 

se la lleva poco a poco y sella todo en su silencio. 

En mí ves el brillo de aquel fuego

que descansa en las cenizas de su juventud

como en el lecho donde deberá expirar

consumido por aquello que alguna vez lo alimentaba.

De todo esto te das cuenta. Tu amor se hace más fuerte

para amar tiernamente lo que habrás de dejar aquí por siempre.