Welcome to Little Pine Ridge
This little ridge lies between the big ridges Chestnut and Black Oak. I went to two
elementary schools here, and one of them, Pine Valley, actually nestled against the
flank of Little Pine Ridge. It was oldish (it's now the admin building), but big, and
had a huge playground that was bordered by woods and
kudzu. I was here (4th grade, Ms White) when JFK was
shot (you never do forget). And it was here I learned that teachers aren't
infallible. A kid in my 6th grade class (teacher's name withheld) gave an eloquent
oral book review of Charlotte's Web . Except, he didn't. He just made it up.
And the teacher never noticed! Or else didn't care. Wooooooooo! What a lesson! Still,
I think I made it through okay, with the help of people like these (even though I met
some of these writers long after elementary school, they all are poets I go back to time
and again, for rejuvenation and reaffirmation as much as knowledge):
Below are complete listings for:
Rudyard
Kipling: still one of my favorite poets and authors (and if you only know
The Jungle Book from Disney, you don't know it! Read it, or at least get the Alexander
Korda movie with Sabu!)
Edna St. Vincent
Millay: a beautiful, powerful writer. Her "First Fig" was one of the first
poems I ever memorized.
Robert Frost: His spare yet lovely language, and
his enduring images, are among my favorites. Much of his better work is too long to
include here: seek him out.
G.K.
Chesterton: usually playful and light, but occasionally solemn and fey
- Friendship's Garland
Remember those two boys in school, the inseparable jerks? They grew up
- We Are Not Amused
The hazards of telling jokes to the humorless (or listening to the same)
- The Donkey
This was one of the first poems I ever memorized, and its opening and closing
stanzas' images are weird and powerful
- Variations of an Air
A selection from "other poets' versions" of Old King Cole -- a hoot!
Ogden Nash:
everyone knows his funny stuff, but he can also write with poignancy and vividness
- A Lady Thinks She is Thirty
The last several verses (especially the very last) speak eloquently of love
- Kipling's Vermont
In four short lines, an entire mood and scene (Kipling lived in Vermont for a
number of years)
- Old Men
This one's a heartbreaker
- My Dream
Short, linguistically amusing, and gently, tenderly erotic
- On a Good Dog
Another sad one ... how time does fly
- The Beggar
After William Blake ... and just as meaningful today as in the Great Depression
Sappho:
the Tenth Muse; even her fragments reveal the depths of love... all
sorts of love
- It's no use You may blame
Aphrodite
All she can do is dream of him
- You are the herdsman of the evening
Hesperus
Everything goes home in the twilight
- Sleep, darling all Croesus' kingdom with
love thrown in
A mother's musing over her sleeping daughter
- In the spring twilight their feet move
rhythmically
Young women dancing in the moonlight
- Don't ask me what to wear my mother
always said that in her day
Advice to her daughter on how to adorn herself
- We put the urn aboard the ship this
is the dust of little Timas
a beloved friend's loss and memory
- Bridesmaids' Carol I come play with your
bridegroom
A wedding song, celebrating the first night
- You wear her livery you, too, Hecate,
Queen of Night
the night and love have always been together
- You know the place, then Queen! Cyprian!
Come!
- Yes, Atthis, you may be sure even in
Sardis Anactoria will think often of us
Love, though parted by distance, remembers
- Be kind to me wear the cream white dress
when you come
An invitation for soon-to-requited love
Robert Nathan some sonnets and shorter poems by a little-read poet
Poems from Tolkien's Rohan: (mostly) alliterative verse that I've always loved
Gerard Manley
Hopkins: his 'sprung' verse is odd, beautiful, and indelible
Chinese
Poetry: lingering images of rare beauty
Thomas Wolfe: deeply rhythmical, strongly cadenced... definitely poetry
- Magic the apple tree, the singing, and the gold
- O Lost we shall not come again
- Night it lay like silence on the earth...
- Spring Spring came that year like magic...
- Plum-Tree but in the Spring, lithe and heavy...
Robert
Burns: he celebrates our people in their triumphs and tragedies, both great
and small
Poems and Excerpts
by Several Poets a potpourri of words that stick with me
- Traveller from "Lee" by Stephen Vincent
Benét
They bred such horses in Virginia then, horses that were remembered after
death...
- Mithridates from "Terence, This Is Stupid
Stuff" by A.E. Housman
I tell the tale that I heard told. Mithridates, he died old.
- Epithaph on an Army of Mercenaries by A.E.
Housman
What God abandoned, these defended
- Admire Cranmer! by Stevie Smith
But still I cry: Admire the Archbishop, the old man, the scholar, admire
him.
- Was It Not Curious? by Stevie Smith
Was it not curious of Aúgustin to say such a curious thing?
- Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas
In the sun that is young once only, Time let me play and be
golden in the mercy of his means
Russian and Ukrainian: in
translations or transliterated originals, including
Poems Based The Tale of
Igor's Host: the Russian national epic, in translations or transliterated
originals
the moment in the Tale that most evokes resonances in modern Russians is the
image of the princess Yaroslavna, walking on the walls of the city of Putivl', mourning
her lost husband Igor', captive of the Polovtsian invaders, or perhaps dead. For a
people whose history is a saga of invasion, defeat, and eventual, expensive triumph,
the figure of Yaroslavna watching for her husband is powerful and undying.
- For the Bard of "The Tale" V.Ya. Bryusov,
1912
- Untitled M.A. Dudin, 1983
in the evening hour the awakening shadows discuss the long ago with me...
original here
- Boyan's Gusli V.A. Sosnora, 1962
- Yaroslavna L.K. Tat'yanicheva, 1943
again a furious wind howls: there will be a bloody, evil rain
original here
- Yaroslavna N.L. Braun
sunset has burned out. A wild cry sounds at midnight
original here
- Yaroslavna A.A. Prokofyev, 1939