Hello, my name is Sophia and I am a teacher of English in Ancient Olympia, Greece. Welcome to my blog!

Monday, March 21, 2011

My eyes have seen the years

 
Where does spirit live? Inside or outside
Things remembered, made things, things unmade?
What came first, the seabird's cry or the soul

 (Photo by Shadow)
Imagined in the dawn cold when it cried?
 

Where does it roost at last? On dungy sticks


 In a jackdaw's nest up in the old stone tower



Or a marble bust commanding the parterre?


How habitable is perfected form?

 And how inhabited the windy light?

What is the use of a held note or held line


That cannot be assailed for reassurance?
(Set questions for the ghost of W.B.)
(Settings, xxii, Seeing Things, Seamus Heaney)

 You drive into a meaning made of trees.
Or not exactly trees. It is a sense
Of running through and under without let,

 
Of glimpse and dapple. A life all trace and skim
The car has vanished out of. A fanned name
Sensitive to the millionth of a flicker.
(Crossings, xxxi, Seeing Things, Seamus Heaney)

4 Comments:

Blogger KitsosMitsos said...

Ζωή, τέλος και άνθρωπος μαζί.

5:27 pm

 
Blogger Sophia said...

@KitsosMitsos
Ω, ναι.. και πολλά πράγματα ανάμεσά τους!!
;-)))))))

5:43 pm

 
Blogger Unknown said...

Αρχίσαμεεεεε

2:58 pm

 
Blogger Sophia said...

@Darthiir the Abban
Γιατί? Είχαμε σταματήσει??
;-ΡΡΡΡ

3:00 pm

 

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