Elizabeth Bishop Poems (68 Poems)
A Summer’s Dream (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
To the sagging wharffew ships could come.The population numberedtwo giants, an idiot, a dwarf, a gentle storekeeperasleep behind his counter,and our kind landlady-the dwarf was her dressmaker. The idiot could be beguiledby picking blackberries,but then threw them away.The shrunken seamstress … Continue reading
I Am in Need of Music (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
I am in need of music that would flowOver 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 … Continue reading
The Colder The Air (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
We must admire her perfect aim,this huntress of the winter airwhose level weapon needs no sight,if it were not that everywhereher game is sure, her shot is right.The least of us could do the same. The chalky birds or boats … Continue reading
Giant Toad (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me. My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great beauty, even so. They see too much, above, below. And yet, there is not much to see. The rain has … Continue reading
Manuelzinho (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me with vegetables, but you don’t; or you won’t; or you can’t get the idea through your brain- the world’s worst … Continue reading
Trouv?e (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Oh, why should a hen have been run over on West 4th Street in the middle of summer? She was a white hen –red-and-white now, of course. How did she get there? Where was she going? Her wing feathers spread … Continue reading
Squatter’s Children (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
On the unbreathing sides of hills they play, a specklike girl and boy, alone, but near a specklike house. The Sun’s suspended eye blinks casually, and then they wade gigantic waves of light and shade. A dancing yellow spot, a … Continue reading
Cape Breton (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Out on the high “bird islands,” Ciboux and Hertford, the razorbill auks and the silly-looking puffins all stand with their backs to the mainland in solemn, uneven lines along the cliff’s brown grass-frayed edge, while the few sheep pastured there … Continue reading
Cirque D’Hiver (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
Across the floor flits the mechanical toy, fit for a king of several centuries back. A little circus horse with real white hair. His eyes are glossy black. He bears a little dancer on his back. She stands upon her … Continue reading
Songs For A Colored Singer (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it’s not mine. None of the things that I can see belong to me. The neighbors got a radio with an aerial; we got a little portable. They got a lot of … Continue reading
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