Monday, 18 November 2013

Poetry Revisited: Temps Perdu


I never may turn the loop of a road 
Where sudden, ahead, the sea is Iying, 
But my heart drags down with an ancient load- 
My heart, that a second before was flying. 

I never behold the quivering rain- 
And sweeter the rain than a lover to me- 
But my heart is wild in my breast with pain; 
My heart, that was tapping contentedly. 

There's never a rose spreads new at my door 
Nor a strange bird crosses the moon at night 
But I know I have known its beauty before, 
And a terrible sorrow along with the sight. 

The look of a laurel tree birthed for May 
Or a sycamore bared for a new November 
Is as old and as sad as my furtherest day- 
What is it, what is it, I almost remember?

                                            Dorothy Parker
                                             (1893 - 1967)


  1. I so very rarely see such serious and thoughtful writing by Parker. Thanks for sharing this. I'm a huge fan of her cynicism and snark, but it's really nice to see the depths she truly went o.

    1. Thanks for your comment Joanne! I'm glad you like the poem.

  2. Beautiful!!
    Btw, I really like your selection of poetry and books. You have a very good blog!

    1. Thank you very much for your praise! I'm doing my best.


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