A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human naturefeels.
It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.
Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:
A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.
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I hate that poem how boring
I love the feeling that the poem inspires in me. It makes me feel as though I am really there as she is feeling these things. I just simply love it!
I love the feeling that the poem inspires in me. It makes me feel as though I am really there as she is feeling these things. I just simply love it! It makes me feel just wonderful!!
i don’t know i’ve gota make a damn assignment on this poem…so u can very well imagine my horror….i seriouly can get wot d lady is tryin 2 convey thru her poems…they r very uninterestin
i don’t know i’ve gota make a damn assignment on this poem…so u can very well imagine my horror….i seriouly can get wot d lady is tryin 2 convey thru her poems…they r very uninterestin
your lyrics float along perfeclty with the pictiure
http://www.verdispoetry.com
i have to do a presentation on this poem!!! omg
help me someone.. wut is she trying to say
Two new studies show why some people are more attractive for members of the opposite sex than others.
The University of Florida, Florida State University found that physically attractive people almost instantly attract the attention of the interlocutor, sobesednitsy with them, literally, it is difficult to make eye. This conclusion was reached by a series of psychological experiments, which were determined by the people who believe in sending the first seconds after the acquaintance. Here, a curious feature: single, unmarried experimental preferred to look at the guys, beauty opposite sex, and family, people most often by representatives of their sex.
The authors believe that this feature developed a behavior as a result of the evolution: a man trying to find a decent pair to acquire offspring. If this is resolved, he wondered potential rivals. Detailed information about this magazine will be published Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.
In turn, a joint study of the Rockefeller University, Rockefeller University and Duke University, Duke University in North Carolina revealed that women are perceived differently by men smell. During experiments studied the perception of women one of the ingredients of male pheromone-androstenona smell, which is contained in urine or sweat.
The results were startling: women are part of this repugnant odor, and the other part is very attractive, resembling the smell of vanilla, and the third group have not felt any smell. The authors argue that the reason is that the differences in the receptor responsible for the olfactory system, from different people are different.
It has long been proven that mammals (including human) odor is one way of attracting the attention of representatives of the opposite sex. A detailed article about the journal Nature will publish.
I enjoyed this very much!
I like so much all the elements described in this poem, the color waiting the spring for being a beautiful poem in the land.
I love Dickinson and especially this poem. The art really draws one into the poem itself….into the scene she is creating with words. An excellent choice ot art to accompany the poem.
I was wondering, if anyone can tell me the artist’s name? I have seen that style on some computers as as a screen saver and I feel like I should know the artist’s name.
Please post it here if anyone knows…thanks….have a good one…xoox diane
Hello diane… I’m Aldo, this site’s author, and unfortunately I don’t know the author for that image.
Xoox to you…
i m trying to interpret this poem..
who knows what i measns? please try to help me
it was a great poem
keep up the good work and keep on writing
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Did you, in all seriousness, pair Thomas Kinkade – the “Painter of Light” – with Emily Dickinson?
I love Emily Dickenson. I really appreciate this post!
A good one.
ireally enjoy this art piece. it would be wonderful to live in
The final line is priceless, no pun intended.
The concept of putting a great piece of poetry to a piece of art is wonderful. I enjoy Emily Dickinson’s poetry on its own, but the image just drives the whole thought of the fleeting spring and its glow home. Thank you.
beautiful
This is a nice poem. Pls visit my site for poems too
ehh. love it ))
Great article! I bet a lot of work went into this post.
For those who need to report on this poem, I think Miss Emily is simply saying that spring has a beautiful, fleeting color that we see only at this time of year. The hills and trees possess an unnatural green. The light shines through barren trees that are just beginning to sprout bright leaves or pale blossoms. (It is probably the source of “spring fever.”) As time passes, the business of summer interrupts the almost holy rite that we have just witnessed. And we are saddened by the loss of these brief moments of communion with nature.
I love Emily Dickinson. She always has the nostalgic touch to her poems.
If you want to read my poems, visit my new blog: poetrysenses.com
I am serving in Afghanistan and one of our servicemembers loves poetry. She posted this poem “Cool Black Milkless Steel” to our NATO Training Mission-Afghanistan Blog.
Link– http://www.ntm-a.com/blog/2-categoryblog-general/652-cool-black-milkless-steel
Hello NATO Poet. I followed the link to “Cool Black Milkless Steel”. I see she presents it as a set of haiku; I don’t know about that, but as a single poem it reads very well. The images and choice of words are excellent.
سلام
شعر قشنگی بود.
It actually makes me sad to see so many comments saying something like “I have to do an assignment on this poem – wtf is she saying?” Someone, somewhere is making poetry into a chore for young people, or they’re finding it to be a chore.
This poem is written in plain English, my native language and the native language of the people complaining. So there’s no problem, right?
Emily Dickinson grew up in the Berkshire Hills, New England, an area of America which has distinct seasons, each with its own colours, scents, sounds, and quality of light. Superficially this poem is about a turning point in the year, a moment of transience, when your attention is suddenly caught by something different about the world around you. More deeply, it is about transience in general, the way that moments of beauty slip though one’s fingers, the way that mundane things take our attention away from them, “as though trade had suddenly encroached upon a sacrament.”
I suspect that the majority of readers to this blog are from the USA, which is a country of spectacular and varied natural wonders on the one hand, and almost total commercialism on the other. The contrast is stark. In Dickinson’s day, more than 120 years ago, the contrast might not have been stark.
Here is another poem of ED’s, this time without rhyme (or rather with subtle half-rhyme)
The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain-
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
some time ago I was asked by some other poets to write a reply to that poem. I wrote this:
The liberty to die
– The sole, unchallenged gift
To hearts from their Inquisitor –
Is consequent of life;
The ambuscade of love
With all attendant wounds
Is why, within a world of pain,
The heart asks pleasure first.
(for what it’s worth)
Yes, I agree totally. Thanks for your rebut RE poetry-as-chore and subsequent pubs and posts. Awful! neil@publisher.co.za
Gagging on the paint-by-number painting now. This “painting” is about the poorest excuse for art that I’ve ever seen. All it’s lacking are some little green elves and a couple of fairy princesses floating in the windows. Just like taffy for the brain. Please, please, Emily deserves anything but this horrific day-glow painting.
Well, trade has suddenly intruded
The most amazing conclusion is this: I have nothing more to learn concerning.
well done.. i like… check this out: http://rewordblog.com/2010/09/04/uncertainty/ and let me know what you think. thanks
Hey, this is real cool. I’m not real good with poetry, I’m more prose. However I wrote my first poem today…tell me what you think???
http://blunderstonerookery.blogspot.com/
Check out Village Verse! A new poetry blog for amateurs and professionals to instantly publish their latest verse online. Submit a poem and contribute to the collection! http://www.villageverse.tumblr.com
Just click on submit at the top!
Thanks for sharing, regards: Nihilistic Poet
A nice poem of Emily Dickinson.
I don’t find this boring at all. The language is just apt for the play of melancholy and dreariness of the moment. Dickinson will always be the queen of wisdom and punching imagery.
visit my poetry blogspot
good stuff:)
Feels as if I am in the image as I read this poem,
emily you rocks
i dunno you write these or find from some where but i just know you are the one brought it here for us ,
thanks
Thank you. Now it is November and pretty chilly. This poem lit me up and showed me what lies ahead. I will probably read it often this winter.
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