“I am in need of music that would flow Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips, 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 like water on my head, And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow! There is a magic made by melody: A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep To the subaqueous stillness of the sea, And floats forever in a moon-green pool, Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.” NeedsHeartMadeFeelingsDreamSongFallWaterSleepHealingForeverClearMagicSeaColorArmsQuietMoonLowsFlowBreathsGreenTiredFingersLipsBitterRhythmMelodySpellsPoolStillnessLimbsFloatsLiquidTremblingFadingTaintedSwaying Book:Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters Source: Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters
“It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk on that long beach Everything was withdrawn as far as possible, indrawn: the tide far out, the ocean shrunken, seabirds in ones or twos. The rackety, icy, offshore wind numbed our faces on one side; disrupted the formation of a lone flight of Canada geese; and blew back the low, inaudible rollers in upright, steely mist.” LongFacesSidesWalksWindColdOceanSpringLowsFlightBeachCanadaMarchTidesMistFormationSpringtimeGeeseLoneIcyWindyOffshoreLong Beach Book:Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters Source: Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters
“Why shouldn't we, so generally addicted to the gigantic, at last have some small works of art, some short poems, short pieces of music [...], some intimate, low-voiced, and delicate things in our mostly huge and roaring, glaring world?” WorldArtLastsPiecesHugeLowsIntimateWorks Of ArtDelicateRoaringDelicate Things Book:Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters Source: Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters
