Poems, 1962-2012 Quotes
Poems, 1962-2012
by
Louise Glück2,017 ratings, 4.44 average rating, 248 reviews
Open Preview
Poems, 1962-2012 Quotes
Showing 1-27 of 27
“Living things don't all require
light in the same degree. Some of us
make our own light: a silver leaf
like a path no one can use, a shallow
lake of silver in the darkness under the great maples.
But you know this already.
You and the others who think
you live for truth and, by extension, love
all that is cold.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
light in the same degree. Some of us
make our own light: a silver leaf
like a path no one can use, a shallow
lake of silver in the darkness under the great maples.
But you know this already.
You and the others who think
you live for truth and, by extension, love
all that is cold.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“They sat far apart
deliberately, to experience, daily,
the sweetness of seeing each other across
great distance.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
deliberately, to experience, daily,
the sweetness of seeing each other across
great distance.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Snowdrops
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring—
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring—
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“And if you missed a day, there was always the next,
and if you missed a year, it didn't matter,
the hills weren't going anywhere,
the thyme and rosemary kept coming back,
the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit–”
― Poems, 1962-2012
and if you missed a year, it didn't matter,
the hills weren't going anywhere,
the thyme and rosemary kept coming back,
the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit–”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Dear friend,
dear trembling partner, what
surprises you most in what you feel,
earth's radiance or your own delight?
For me, always
the delight is the surprise.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
dear trembling partner, what
surprises you most in what you feel,
earth's radiance or your own delight?
For me, always
the delight is the surprise.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Aubade "
There was one summer
that returned many times over
there was one flower unfurling
taking many forms
Crimson of the monarda, pale gold of the late roses
There was one love
There was one love, there were many nights
Smell of the mock orange tree
Corridors of jasmine and lilies
Still the wind blew
There were many winters but I closed my eyes
The cold air white with dissolved wings
There was one garden when the snow melted
Azure and white; I couldn’t tell
my solitude from love—
There was one love; he had many voices
There was one dawn; sometimes
we watched it together
I was here
I was here
There was one summer returning over and over
there was one dawn
I grew old watching”
― Poems, 1962-2012
There was one summer
that returned many times over
there was one flower unfurling
taking many forms
Crimson of the monarda, pale gold of the late roses
There was one love
There was one love, there were many nights
Smell of the mock orange tree
Corridors of jasmine and lilies
Still the wind blew
There were many winters but I closed my eyes
The cold air white with dissolved wings
There was one garden when the snow melted
Azure and white; I couldn’t tell
my solitude from love—
There was one love; he had many voices
There was one dawn; sometimes
we watched it together
I was here
I was here
There was one summer returning over and over
there was one dawn
I grew old watching”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“In my dream, I built a funeral pyre.
For myself, you understand.
I thought I had suffered enough. I thought this was the end of my body: fire
seemed the right end for hunger;
they were the same thing.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
For myself, you understand.
I thought I had suffered enough. I thought this was the end of my body: fire
seemed the right end for hunger;
they were the same thing.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Because you were foolish enough to love one place,
now you are homeless, an orphan
in succession of shelters.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
now you are homeless, an orphan
in succession of shelters.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“I could live almost completely in imagination.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
― Poems, 1962-2012
“My childhood, closed to me forever, turned gold like an autumn garden,”
― Poems, 1962-2012
― Poems, 1962-2012
“But for my sister, that's the condition of love.
She was my father's daughter:
the face of love, to her,
is the face turning away.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
She was my father's daughter:
the face of love, to her,
is the face turning away.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Like a door
the body opened and
the soul looked out.
Timidly at first, then
less timidly
until it was safe.
Then in hunger it ventured.
Then in brazen hunger,
then at the invitation
of any desire.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
the body opened and
the soul looked out.
Timidly at first, then
less timidly
until it was safe.
Then in hunger it ventured.
Then in brazen hunger,
then at the invitation
of any desire.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Living things don’t all require
light in the same degree. Some of us
make our own light
—Louise Glück, from “Lamium,” Poems 1962-2012(Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 1st Edition, November 13, 2012)”
― Poems, 1962-2012
light in the same degree. Some of us
make our own light
—Louise Glück, from “Lamium,” Poems 1962-2012(Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 1st Edition, November 13, 2012)”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Because you were foolish enough to love one place,
now you are homeless, an orphan
in succession of shelters."
-”
― Poems, 1962-2012
now you are homeless, an orphan
in succession of shelters."
-”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“When the dream ended the terror remained.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
― Poems, 1962-2012
“I don’t need your praise
to survive. I was here first,
before you were here, before
you ever planted a garden.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
to survive. I was here first,
before you were here, before
you ever planted a garden.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“There is no better. Only (for a short space) the night sky like a quarantine that sets you apart from your task.”
― Poems 1962-2012
― Poems 1962-2012
“The grass below the willow
Of my daughter’s wash is curled
With earthworms, and the world
Is measured into row on row
Of unspiced houses, painted to seem real.
The drugged Long Island summer sun drains
Pattern from those empty sleeves, beyond my grandson
Squealing in his pen. I have survived my life.
The yellow daylight lines the oak leaf
And the wire vines melt with the unchanged changes
Of the baby. My children have their husbands’ hands.
My husband’s framed, propped bald as a baby on their pianos,
My tremendous man. I close my eyes. And all the clothes
I have thrown out come back to me, the hollows
Of my daughters’ slips…they drift; I see the sheer
Summer cottons drift, equivalent to air.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
Of my daughter’s wash is curled
With earthworms, and the world
Is measured into row on row
Of unspiced houses, painted to seem real.
The drugged Long Island summer sun drains
Pattern from those empty sleeves, beyond my grandson
Squealing in his pen. I have survived my life.
The yellow daylight lines the oak leaf
And the wire vines melt with the unchanged changes
Of the baby. My children have their husbands’ hands.
My husband’s framed, propped bald as a baby on their pianos,
My tremendous man. I close my eyes. And all the clothes
I have thrown out come back to me, the hollows
Of my daughters’ slips…they drift; I see the sheer
Summer cottons drift, equivalent to air.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“What do we have really?
Sad tricks with ladders and shoes,
tricks with salt, impurely motivated recurring
attempts to build character.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
Sad tricks with ladders and shoes,
tricks with salt, impurely motivated recurring
attempts to build character.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“Now the hero's dead. Like echoes, the women last longer;
they're all too tough for their own good.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
they're all too tough for their own good.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
