“To Her Steady Lover - Poem by Jibanananda Das There is no meaning in living—I don't say this. There is meaning for some, may be for all—may be a perfect meaning. Yet I hear the white sound o...”
Work
In 1982 William Bronk won the American Book Award for his book Life Supports: New & Collected Poems. Since then, he has written seven additional books, and Sagetrieb has devoted an entire issue to his work. Bronk is unquestionably a major poet--utterly original, uncompromisingly abstract in content, and deeply sensuous in form. Michael Heller, in The New York Times Book Review, said Bronk's poetry is "singularly persistent in its own investigation of how our deepest truths are those which are most unsayable." This volume spans Bronk's entire career, from his first book Light and Dark, to his most recent Some Words and The Mild Day (Talisman), which the Village Voice praised as "offering epigrammatic style, philosophical reverie, and haiku-like concision." Selected Poems is an indispensable collection, containing the most compelling and the most popular of Bronk's eloquent poems.
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William Bronk
Canonical work source
“To Her Steady Lover - Poem by Jibanananda Das There is no meaning in living—I don't say this. There is meaning for some, may be for all—may be a perfect meaning. Yet I hear the white sound o...”
“నేను బొడ్డుపై ముదురు మందపాటి పిచ్లో థడ్-కిక్ పొందుతాను మరియు దొర్లిపోతాను వినయపూర్వకంగా ఉండటానికి తడిగా ఉన్న ఫ్లోర్ షాక్పై వెనుక భాగంలో కట్టిన చేతులు నేను స్పిన్ చేస్తే ముఖం కళ్ళపై లైట్లు...”
“الدجاج المشوي نفخة عمودك في الغضب والقتال ، الديك ، فرحة صاحب السكين اللدغة مع اللقاح ورفرفة الأجنحة الخاصة بك. كما قلت: تحريف الأسلحة والحفاظ عليها عازمة لفة البساط والنزول على الشرفة بعد ا...”
“This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –”
“The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing— At her low Gate— Unmoved—an Emperor be kneeling Upon h...”
“After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical,...”
“Poetry And it was at that age... Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no, they were not voices, th...”
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“Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —”
“Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the...”
“There is no Frigate like a Book To take us Lands away Nor any Coursers like a Page Of prancing Poetry – This Traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of Toll – How frugal is the Chariot...”