"What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why," Edna St. Vincent Millay

[lnhammer]

Enough theoretical discussion -- back to the love poems. Here's one by one of the better love poets of the last century.


What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts to-night, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.


Do you have a favorite love sonnet?

---L.

Comments

[spiralsheep]

I love the sting in the tail. When she wrote that sonnet, Millay was a professional poet who had sold her work:

"Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would."

I think she did (note: although not every "I" in fiction/poetry is autobiographical). :-)

Have you read her first poem, written when she was 15? It's a remarkably mature work.

[(Anonymous)]

"I think she did..."

Well, only in the abstract sense of 'trade,' though -- that is, she incorporated the reference into a poem which she then published, but she didn't *give away* the memory, which is how I'd always read it. That is, she still has the memory herself - it has not been lost to her.

Sharing a memory of love increases it, in my opinion; I suspect it's the giving-it-away-so-I-don't-have-it-any-more she was referencing.

I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

[spiralsheep]

I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now,
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow.

I would indeed that love were longer-lived,
And oaths were not so brittle as they are,
But so it is, and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far, —
Whether or not we find what we are seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

Re: I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

[bookblather]

Baha, that last line. Millay is one of my favorite poets precisely for those last lines.

Re: I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

[primeideal]

I'm not much for love poetry but while we're on Millay and her stingers, I must recommend "I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed." http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-being-born-a-woman-and-distressed/

The Italian rhyme scheme at the end has its ups and downs. The triple two-syllable rhyme is spectacular, but I could kind of see "reason" coming from "brain" and it wasn't as exciting as it might otherwise have been.

Re: I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

[spiralsheep]

\o/

Re: I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

[spiralsheep]

That sonnet was the one that first sold me on Millay. As a reader I love the punchline(s) but as a writer I have to admire the set-up more:

and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far

Heh.