Dear haijin, visitors and travelers,
What a wonderful autumn-day we have here today in The Netherlands. Early this morning it was really cold around four degrees Celcius, but now (around noon) it's nice, not cold not warm just a nice temperature and a little breeze. As I look around me I can see that autumn really is here. leaves are starting become colored like the rainbow and the perfume of decaying leaves is awesome ...
Today's GW-post is similar with our Carpe Diem "Distillation" feature, but with a twist. Jen of Blog It Or Lose It has written this week's GW-post and introduces us to an American poetess named Sara Teasdale. She shares a poem titled "Leaves" composed by Sara and I think it's a wonderful poem in which Sara brings a tribute to "leaves". Have fun!
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LEAVES a poem by Sara Teasdale
Sara Teasdale was an American poet who lived from
1884-1933. She published several collections of poetry during her life,
including Sonnets to Duse, Helen of Troy and
Other Poems, Rivers to the Sea, Flame and Shadows,
and Love Songs. She is probably best known for three
poems: “Like Barley Bending”, “I Shall Not Care”, and “Leaves”.
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| Credits: Leaves |
Here is "Leaves" (1917) for your inspiration:
ONE by one, like leaves from a tree,
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and delicate red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
I who was content to be
But a silken-singing tree,
But a rustle of delight
In the wistful heart of night,
I have lost the leaves that knew
Touch of rain and weight of dew.
Blinded by a leafy crown
I looked neither up nor down -
But the little leaves that die
Have left me room to see the sky;
Now for the first time I know
Stars above and earth below.
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and delicate red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
I who was content to be
But a silken-singing tree,
But a rustle of delight
In the wistful heart of night,
I have lost the leaves that knew
Touch of rain and weight of dew.
Blinded by a leafy crown
I looked neither up nor down -
But the little leaves that die
Have left me room to see the sky;
Now for the first time I know
Stars above and earth below.
Rather than elaborate upon the poem, I’d like to know
what the poem means to *you*.
Can you envision the stars, the brown grass at the
trees' feet, the liberation of being "leafless"? What thoughts
come to mind when *you* read the poem?
Here is my Leaf-inspired haiku:
one leaf
rattling noisily in winter –
let go, little one
rattling noisily in winter –
let go, little one
© Jen of Blog It Or Lose It
Links:
1) Sara Teasdale – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sara_Teasdale
2) Leaves – http://www.bartleby.com/265/359.html
