Pulse en una miniatura para ir a Google Books.
Cargando... Tamerlanepor Edgar Allan Poe
Ninguno Cargando...
Inscríbete en LibraryThing para averiguar si este libro te gustará. Actualmente no hay Conversaciones sobre este libro. sin reseñas | añadir una reseña
Contenido en
Tamerlane and Other Poems is the first book of poetry that Edgar Allan Poe ever published. Little is known about the publisher of the volume and Poe is said to have published it at his own expense in 1827, when "the poet had not completed his fourteenth year." Although it is unlikely that the poet was younger than fourteen at the time the book was published, this volume is nonetheless valuable to us in that it is one of the few relics of Poe juvenilia that we have at our disposal. Original editions of this book have fetched tens of thousands of dollars at auction and few first editions are currently in existence. No se han encontrado descripciones de biblioteca. |
Debates activosNinguno
Google Books — Cargando... GénerosSistema Decimal Melvil (DDC)811.5Literature English (North America) American poetry 20th CenturyClasificación de la Biblioteca del CongresoValoraciónPromedio:
¿Eres tú?Conviértete en un Autor de LibraryThing. |
This stood out to me:
The world — its joy — its share of pain
Which I felt not — its bodied forms
Of varied being, which contain
The bodiless spirits of the storms,
The sunshine, and the calm — the ideal
And fleeting vanities of dreams,
Fearfully beautiful! the real
Nothings of mid-day waking life —
Of an enchanted life, which seems,
Now as I look back, the strife
Of some ill demon, with a power
Which left me in an evil hour,
All that I felt, or saw, or thought,
Crowding, confused became
(With thine unearthly beauty fraught)
Thou — and the nothing of a name.
And this:
‘Tis thus when the lovely summer sun
Of our boyhood, his course hath run:
For all we live to know — is known;
And all we seek to keep — hath flown;
With the noon-day beauty, which is all.
Let life, then, as the day-flow’r, fall —
The trancient, passionate day-flow’r,
Withering at the ev’ning hour.
But then the last stanza just does not work for me. The idea is there, but the language fails. Ah, well. It's Poe. It's hard to complain.
Read online at: http://www.eapoe.org/works/poems/tamerlna.htm ( )