Via
sartorias comes word that this is Silent Poetry Reading day. Not that any poetry is silent :)
Here's an old favourite of mine, that I hadn't read for a while. I love the rich imagery
Song From "Paracelsus"
I.
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,
Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes
From out her hair: such balsam falls
Down sea-side mountain pedestals,
From tree-tops where tired winds are fain,
Spent with the vast and howling main,
To treasure half their island gain.
II.
And strew faint sweetness from some old
Egyptian's fine worm-eaten shroud
Which breaks to dust when once unrolled;
Or shredded perfume, like a cloud
From closet long to quiet vowed,
With mothed and dropping arras hung,
Mouldering her lute and books among,
As when a queen, long dead, was young.
Robert Browning.
Here's an old favourite of mine, that I hadn't read for a while. I love the rich imagery
Song From "Paracelsus"
I.
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,
Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes
From out her hair: such balsam falls
Down sea-side mountain pedestals,
From tree-tops where tired winds are fain,
Spent with the vast and howling main,
To treasure half their island gain.
II.
And strew faint sweetness from some old
Egyptian's fine worm-eaten shroud
Which breaks to dust when once unrolled;
Or shredded perfume, like a cloud
From closet long to quiet vowed,
With mothed and dropping arras hung,
Mouldering her lute and books among,
As when a queen, long dead, was young.
Robert Browning.
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And I agree. The concrete images, they make it come so alive.
faint sweetness from some old Egyptian's fine worm-eaten shroud/Which breaks to dust when once unrolled ... sigh!
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Sign language poetry?
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