The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Elizabeth Bishop I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seemed filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster
Oh, must we dream our dreams
and have them, too?
...what the Man-Moth fears most he must do..
Elizabeth BishopMots clés poetry
All the untidy activity continues,
awful but cheerful.
Think of the long trip home. Should we have stayed home and thought of here? Where should we be today?
Elizabeth BishopMots clés the-end-of-the-alphabet
But they made me realize more than I ever had the rarity of true originality, and also the sort of alienation it might involve.
Elizabeth BishopThe art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.
Mots clés sestina elizabeth-bishop
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