My heart, being hungry, feeds on food
The fat of heart despise.
Beauty where beauty never stood,
And sweet where no sweet lies
I gather to my querulous need,
Having a growing heart to feed.
It may be, when my heart is dull,
Having attained its girth,
I shall not find so beautiful
The meagre shapes of earth,
Nor linger in the rain to mark
The smell of tansy through the dark.
(From "Harpweaver" 1922)
This poem was published in "Harpweaver and Other Poems" and she won a Pulitzer in 1923 for this volume. My favorite part of the particular poem is the last two lines. When I read them it makes me feel that I am standing in the rain, on a dark night, with the sweet scent of tansy rising up across the valley with the mist.
Recently I came across this author and this beautiful poem of hers in a Czech translation. I searched for the original and finally found it here. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteShe wrote many lyrics and sonnets. I'm glad my mother read them to me when I was young, because her mother had read them to her. I wish for you the joy of discovery.
DeleteGlad to be of help! It is wonderful to know that Vincent's works are being shared in multiple languages.
ReplyDelete