"May Day"

[med_cat]

May Day by Sarah Teasdale

A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air, The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Red small leaves of the maple Are clenched like a hand, Like girls at their first communion The pear trees stand. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much, The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May Shining after the rain? This poem is in the public domain. Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933) was a Missouri-born poet afflicted with poor health from birth. She loved one man but married another, divorced, lost her best friend to suicide, and eventually committed suicide herself. Ironically, a majority of her poems are about love and beauty, and she won the first Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1918. There are some similarities to be drawn between Sara and Emily Dickinson; both were reclusive, both wrote intensely personal poetry that frequently focused on nature, both knew unrequited love.

Comments

[kateriva.livejournal.com]

so tender!

[med_cat]

Yes, there are several of her works I like; check out the "sara teasdale" tag :)

[debriswoman]

Nice poem...sad personal life...

[med_cat]

...As with so many of the poets...

And yes, I was surprised to read certain facts in her bio, I would've expected otherwise, given the views often expressed in her poems.