This is his best

Greatest poem of all time.

Merci .

The pricks were stiking too my lips

His poems grow dense with each keen line, until the density seems to stand up and cry for it's own self; a cry of frailty for the meaning, for the thing which it strived so arduously to elucidate. In this cry we know the struggle for meaning which every poet, every person even, seeks.

Oh, one of my favorites. I was the potato peeler in our family.

You are forgetting Anna Akhmatova. She was a better writer than all of them except Pushkin.

Самый любимый поэт и человек! ❤

when the brain sends thing stuff to the heart mucsle and that big doorer make the word say 'lets understand this' and only a few can word the .......and they tell us!!! Then we walk back, read the poem again....and again....And realize, It IS beautiful.........and it is 5am :(

Support, great

Isn’t this poem about wanking and the Christian guilt that sets in after “sticky palms”?

Profound beauty in simplicity.

Listening to him read his poetry makes me cry I don’t know why

This deserves so many more readings.

Now I love my mom more for cooking our little tins-ful into jam and pie

Derry born (county not the city), and not far from where Heaney was raised. I HATE his slurred QUB/Harvard accent. But I love his poetry. His metre is bang on, and he transports me to magical places.

Sådan vacker röst och poesi

Having Irish heritage (both my late parents), I could not but love poems by "Seamus Heaney" , love this poem!

...profoundly meaningless as is all of Stevens mysterium dei

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

chupapi munyanyo

I'm Here to find the answers to my assignment

Dziękuję...

m

english homework wildin

I had the honour of meeting home. It was in a restaurant in Co. Wicklow where he lived. I was 5 and the waiters and waitresses had planned to give me a cake at the table and sang me happy birthday and he was in the corner and wished me a happy birthday.

So simple but so full of emotions

Man's eyes are always bigger than his stomach

I get such a lump in my throat hearing this.

jay parini no less ranks this second only to ‘Song of Myself’ as among the greatest American poems ever written. no examination will release it’s 🧞‍♀️ genie but I’m satisfied experiencing it as a Love poem to a particular woman, probably his wife. (In mythology Chaos is considered Feminine and Order Masculine, make of that what you will - we need a vocabulary to discuss these things!) For the writer praises the woman for bringing Order out of the Chaos of the Sea. The Woman, chaos to any man who knows one is the one who conceives and bears children - no women, no babies. If that isn’t bringing Order to the World !!! The mystery of any mother is awe inspiring. This is a celebration of Mother’s Day at its essence. Of course the academy will read it as ‘the interdependence of imagination and reality” and “a struggle to blah blah”. its a love poem and it’s mesmerizing “She was the maker...and the maker’s rage to order ...” we can take it up a notch and decide she’s Mother Nature or A Goddess but she’s giving birth ... It can be more of course but it doesn’t have to more to satisfy me.

How can one single poem say everything about everything?

Yes 100 comment

Ummmmmm fortnite ?

Have

I haven’t to do some research on him for my English work

Его поэзия, его видение, чувствование мира - это многообразие, многогранность мозаики ощущений бытия. Дополненность Обогащенность.

Is this about sex?

i used this foe english :D

Salivating right now, mid-winter!