Sylvia Plath Poems (121 Poems)
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Pursuit (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Dans le fond des forêts votre image me suit. RACINE There is a panther stalks me down: One day I’ll have my death of him; His greed has set the woods aflame, He prowls more lordly than the sun. Most … Continue reading
Totem (Sylvia Plath Poems)
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver, It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless. Its running is useless. At nightfall there is the beauty of drowned fields, Dawn gilds the farmers like pigs, Swaying … Continue reading
The Swarm (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Somebody is shooting at something in our town — A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open the blood, It can make black roses. Who are the shooting at? It is you the knives are out for … Continue reading
Love Is A Parallax (Sylvia Plath Poems)
‘Perspective betrays with its dichotomy: train tracks always meet, not here, but only in the impossible mind’s eye; horizons beat a retreat as we embark on sophist seas to overtake that mark where wave pretends to drench real sky.’ ‘Well … Continue reading
Getting There (Sylvia Plath Poems)
How far is it? How far is it now? The gigantic gorilla interior Of the wheels move, they appall me — The terrible brains Of Krupp, black muzzles Revolving, the sound Punching out Absence! Like cannon. It is Russia I … Continue reading
Poppies In July (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Little poppies, little hell flames, Do you do no harm? You flicker. I cannot touch you. I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns And it exhausts me to watch you Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like … Continue reading
Black Rook In Rainy Weather (Sylvia Plath Poems)
On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain. I do not expect a miracle Or an accident To set the sight on fire In my eye, nor seek Any … Continue reading
Southern Sunrise (Sylvia Plath Poems)
Color of lemon, mango, peach, These storybook villas Still dream behind Shutters, thier balconies Fine as hand- Made lace, or a leaf-and-flower pen-sketch. Tilting with the winds, On arrowy stems, Pineapple-barked, A green crescent of palms Sends up its forked … Continue reading
Two Views Of A Cadaver Room (Sylvia Plath Poems)
(1) The day she visited the dissecting room They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey, Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume Of the death vats clung to them; The white-smocked boys started working. The head of his … Continue reading
The Queen’s Complaint (Sylvia Plath Poems)
In ruck and quibble of courtfolk This giant hulked, I tell you, on her scene With hands like derricks, Looks fierce and black as rooks; Why, all the windows broke when he stalked in. Her dainty acres he ramped through … Continue reading
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