Elizabeth Bishop*:
Sonnet
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
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!
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
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.
*Thank you, Verna!
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.
*Thank you, Verna!
When Lis spends the night here, she always ends up with her guitar, first on the porch beside me, just playing whatever comes to her fingers and then, when I've just GOT to go to bed, we kiss good-night and she moves to the library and I go to bed, that music, following me into my dreams.
ReplyDeleteThis hit just the right spot at just the right moment-thank you!
ReplyDeleteLovely.
ReplyDeleteA cup of coffee and a slice of music - great way to start the day.
I love this poem and I want to crawl into this picture!
ReplyDelete