Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that
word!
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.
I chose this lyrical poem because I really enjoyed
Millay sarcasm and the way she expressed her inner thoughts. The theme is
really interesting, we can appreciate the role of women being revealed towards
men. We know that in that century women only could do "domestic
things", and men had the power...
Despite the fact that we can´t be sure if she told
this things, thinks , or writes them down I would prefer to choose tha last
one. I imagine she in this way, so here is my picture!
Sir Thomas Wyatt
The
Hind
Whoso
list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
but as for me, hélas, I may no more.
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that farthest cometh behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
as well as I may spend his time in vain.
And graven with diamonds in letters plain
There is written, her fair neck round about:
Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
and wild for to hold, though I seem tame
I selected this poem because I
like metaphor in which the writer compares love with "hunt"
and woman with "hind".
Although he knew where she is and he
wanted her, he feels frustrated and regrets of earlier hunting efforts because
they were in vain. She really is a "coquette", in fact she had a
bejewelled collar, indicating she already has an owner and also her collar is adorned with the Latin phrase ‘Noli Me
tangere’ meaning ‘touch me not’. So he decided to give up with his
chase.
I found very suitable this picture, it
represents both, on the one hand how she behaved and how insistent he was, on
the other hand, if you pay more attention he has a death hind in his shoulders,
maybe it representsthat that his love to her is also death.
Edwar Allan Poe
A dream
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?
That holy dream- that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.
What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So trembled from afar-
What could there be more purely bright
In Truth's day-star?
I was looking for a narrative poem, and I really catches my attention because I can compare it with "The Hind", in the sense that this man is also broken-harted by a woman, at least this is my interpretation.
What is different here is that although that woman left him for another man, he still thinks of her and dreams with her. Maybe because those dreams make him stay alive, I could imagine that he is still in love and is the only thing he needs.
I think this image perfectly represents this poem.



Check the meaning of "analogy" vs "anthology", please!
ReplyDeletePretty images and interesting comments. I don't see "A Dream" as a narrative poem, though.
In the discussion of "The Hind", language mistakes obscure meaning at times.