William De Witt Snodgrass
January 5, 1926 – January 13, 2009
Monet: “les Nymphéas”
19 Dec 2017 02:30
So powerful need time to fully comprehend. Will read again, and again.
30 May 2006 08:26
Monet: “Les Nymphéas” by W. D. Snodgrass The eyelids glowing, some chill morning. O world half-known through opening, twilit lids Before the vague face clenches into light; O universal waters like a cloud, Like those first clouds of half-created matter; O all things rising, rising like the fumes From waters falling, O forever falling; Infinite, the skeletal shells that fall, relinquished, The snowsoft sift of the diatoms, like selves Downdrifting age upon age through milky oceans; O slow downdrifting of the atoms; O island nebulae and O the nebulous islands Wandering these mists like falsefires, which are true, Bobbing like milkweed, like warm lanterns bobbing Through the snowfilled windless air, blinking and passing As we pass into the memory of women Who are passing. Within those depths What ravening? What devouring rage? How shall our living know its ends of yielding? These things have taken me as the mouth an orange— That acrid sweet juice entering every cell; And I am shared out. I become these things: These lilies, if these things are water lilies Which are dancers growing dim across no floor; These mayflies; whirled dust orbiting in the sun; This blossoming diffused as rushlights; galactic vapors; Fluorescence into which we pass and penetrate; O soft as the thighs of women; O radiance, into which I go on dying...
10 Jun 2004 06:22
For Mr. W. D. Snodgrass If I could only write your way That would be my happiest day To touch the soul of every kind To open up every mind Oh, if Icould only write your way What is it I would say? Your words, your thoughts Will always stay Imbedded in my heart Til darkness has swept me away