http://www.internal.org/view_poem.phtml?poemID=352
October
by: Robert Frost
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.
Again, this is a poem by Robert Frost. I feel more connected to this poem than others because I was born in October. To me, the season autumn always gives me a sense of image where there is a vast grass land and tall mountains in the background. The chilly wind slowly threatens the lives of the nature, as the prelude to the deadly weather in the winter. From that image, I sense solitude and agony. It's not something to brag about but I have a solitary personality and I like spending time coming up with ideas to describe a place, nature, etc. This poem, strangely sounds extremely familiar to me as if I read it in the past, although I haven't. The agony comes up from no where and for no reason. This poem directly makes me see that image of the nature and although silent, peaceful, and harmonious, a strange feeling of strong hatred and pain rises in my mind. I don't know why but it just happens and it's the way it is. Many I'm one of the so-called Emos. Who knows. Anyhow, this poem sounds like as if it's about me, with the image of fall during October, clearly describing the nature of my personality with the sense of looking back the past.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
stars
Stars
How countlessly they congregate
O'er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!--
As if with keenness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,--
And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva's snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
by Robert Frost
http://www.internal.org/view_poem.phtml?poemID=126
To me, the poems by Robert Frost are like a basketball hoop for me. I'm not tall enough to reach the hoop, just like I'll never completely understand Frost's poems. However, Frost's poems are my favorite, or the only poems that I enjoy reading. Anyway, this poem, 'Stars' gives me an image of a person who admires the stars looking at the stars fading away in the early mornings. The first stanza gives a strong image of a dark sky sprinkled with countlessly many stars. It also gives a sense that the stars will remain the sky for eternity. Then, as the poem continues, the day starts to begin and the invincible stars fade away and disappear. Then, the bright stars become nothing but the white part of the sky in the daylight. I think this poem is talking about people's lives. Why? I don't know. I think that Frost was talking about humans as the stars and the process of stars fading away as the process of humans dying. Like when the stars are present, they are so bright. It seems as if they will stay in their place forever. However, as the dawn approaches, they disppear slowly but so suddenly that you'll never remember it existing in that place. The star is still in the universe but it's not visible to the eye, just like after someone dies, we tend to remember them but we eventually forget them.
How countlessly they congregate
O'er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!--
As if with keenness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,--
And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva's snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
by Robert Frost
http://www.internal.org/view_poem.phtml?poemID=126
To me, the poems by Robert Frost are like a basketball hoop for me. I'm not tall enough to reach the hoop, just like I'll never completely understand Frost's poems. However, Frost's poems are my favorite, or the only poems that I enjoy reading. Anyway, this poem, 'Stars' gives me an image of a person who admires the stars looking at the stars fading away in the early mornings. The first stanza gives a strong image of a dark sky sprinkled with countlessly many stars. It also gives a sense that the stars will remain the sky for eternity. Then, as the poem continues, the day starts to begin and the invincible stars fade away and disappear. Then, the bright stars become nothing but the white part of the sky in the daylight. I think this poem is talking about people's lives. Why? I don't know. I think that Frost was talking about humans as the stars and the process of stars fading away as the process of humans dying. Like when the stars are present, they are so bright. It seems as if they will stay in their place forever. However, as the dawn approaches, they disppear slowly but so suddenly that you'll never remember it existing in that place. The star is still in the universe but it's not visible to the eye, just like after someone dies, we tend to remember them but we eventually forget them.
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