Samira wrote:
Quote:
Give me the silence, the water, hope.
Give me struggle, iron, the volcanoes.
Stick bodies to me like magnets.
Come to my veins and my mouth.
Speak through my words and my blood.
Reminds me more of Byron than Eliot.
Not the style itself, but the buildup he has to the lingering feeling and the always-quotable ending. Neruda's
Heights is quite long, and it introduces itself with class and then builds just beautifully. I remember the first time I read the much-shorter
Prufrock, and it held the same kind of feeling for me.
Edited, Jul 18th 2006 at 5:19pm EDT by Atomicflea