Up--up--water shooting,
Jet of water, white and silver,
Tinkling with the morning sun-bells.
Red as sun-blood, whizz of fire,
Shock of fire-spray and water.
It is the humming-birds flying against the stream of the fountain.
The trumpet-vine bursts into a scatter of humming-birds,
The scarlet-throated trumpet flowers explode with humming-birds.
The fountain waits to toss them diamonds.
I clasp my hands over my heart
Which will not let loose its humming-birds,
Which will not break to green and ruby,
Which will not let its wings touch air.
Pound and hammer me with irons,
Crack me so that flame can enter,
Pull me open, loose the thunder
Of wings within me.
Leave me wrecked and consoled,
A maker of humming-birds
Who dare bathe in a leaping water.

-- Amy Lowell, "The Humming-birds"

#TodaysPoem #AmyLowell #Poetry

Malmaison

Amy Lowell Verse 1 How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall!  How quietly the Seine runs in loops and windings, over there, over there, sliding th…

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The Landing Gear by Moonlight

Firefly lights open and vanish
High as the tip buds of the golden glow
Low as the sweet alyssum flowers at my feet.

Then you come,
And you are quiet - like the garden,
And white like the alyssum flowers,
And beautiful as the silent sparks of the fireflies.

#AmyLowell #Poetry #AirplaneASongOrPoem
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Bath

Amy Lowell The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in…

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#TodaysPoem was "Towns in Colour" by #AmyLowell and it was just a blast. Five meditations on color and place, each dramatically different from the last.

From "The Opera House" section:

"Within the gold square of the proscenium arch,
A curtain of orange velvet hangs in stiff folds,
Its tassels jarring slightly when someone crosses the stage behind.
Gold carving edges the balconies,
Rims the boxes,
Runs up and down fluted pillars.
Little knife-stabs of gold
Shine out whenever a box door is opened."

This one builds over time, ending with rich lines connecting the sounds and sights of the space, through color (gold), to the work of culture and class. Read it and the whole poem here.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/53773/towns-in-colour

Towns in Colour by Amy Lowell | Poetry Foundation

Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey, windy sleet!

Poetry Foundation
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OPAALI

Tämä blogi sisältää yli 3000 tekemääni runokäännöstä, pääosin englannista suomeksi. Vain muutamia kymmeniä on käännetty aiemmin.

AIKA

Tämä blogi sisältää yli 3000 tekemääni runokäännöstä, pääosin englannista suomeksi. Vain muutamia kymmeniä on käännetty aiemmin.

TULIOMENAT

Tämä blogi sisältää yli 3000 tekemääni runokäännöstä, pääosin englannista suomeksi. Vain muutamia kymmeniä on käännetty aiemmin.