The Kings of the earth and their kinHave left their marks on the earth;The lords of the east and the westHave made millions to kneel by their birth.But the song that is oldest is wisest,And all that it tells is
A beautiful artform with more subtleties than is often taught. The first poem which made me want to read more poetry was The Fall of Arthur, an unfinished work by J.R.R. Tolkien. I had already read Beowulf (Heaney’s translation), but The Fall of Arthur drove
The difficulty of defining poetry is in drawing a line which keeps everything poetic on one side, everything prose on the other. It can’t be alliteration or rhyme or meter or syllabification, because for every one of those, I can
Poetry and prose are the two great structural classes of human script-art. Prose is the standard, in our view, and poetry the exception. Historically, poetry has a much stronger presence in the world of art than prose, being much better
Poetry and prose and the two great structural classes of human script-art. Prose is the standard, in our view, and poetry the exception. Of course, historically poetry has a much stronger presence in the world of art than prose, being
In metal trust, you sons of men, In weapons trust, warriors of blood, For what else lives that men can love? I’ve seen men kill and die like sheep, I trust no man- I’ve tasted their love. Savages who gnaw
Title by translator C. Potter. Before this sword a thousand men have died; Before these eyes a thousand thousands have found their end. Yet here I stand, and You are too mighty for me; Here I kneel, and You overcome
Quiet! For the wind cries from the east; It speaks of suffering and of silencing shattering, It speaks of courts, in whose cants are death’s shade, It speaks of a gathering against His Anointed, That all like lambs may be
Note: This is a camp song (the sheet music for which is posted here) meant to be sung by soldiers, with each return of the refrain increasing in length. I’ve killed many men, sir, I’ve killed many men, I’ve thrown