Poetry: Edna St. Vincent Millay

I want­ed to do some­thing dif­fer­ent for today’s Thing-a-Day, and I signed up to be part of Live Read­ings a while back but had­n’t record­ed any­thing yet, so I’m post­ing this is both (all three?) places.

“What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why (Son­net XLIII)”
by Edna St. Vin­cent Mil­lay

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 tonight, 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 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.

From Col­lect­ed Poems by Edna St. Vin­cent Mil­lay

Music is “Cel­e­bra­tion” by Mark Hei­mo­nen from the Pod­safe Music Net­work

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5 Responses to “Poetry: Edna St. Vincent Millay”

  1. Born Again Bird Watcher Says:
    February 13th, 2008 at 2:16 am

    I once read a great deal of Mil­lay’s work but like too many things I haven’t done so recent­ly. Thanks for remind­ing me what I have been miss­ing. I’m going to go read now…

  2. cyn Says:
    February 13th, 2008 at 2:31 am

    I hon­est­ly had­n’t read much of her work, but that poem was one of the pieces that the Acad­e­my of Amer­i­can Poets linked to in a newslet­ter I received today. I cer­tain­ly intend to find more!

  3. Good Girl Gone Bad Says:
    February 20th, 2008 at 7:14 pm

    i have not read your work but because of that poem i think i will start.This poem is being used in my project.OXOXOX.{it means hugs and kiss­es}

  4. cyn Says:
    February 20th, 2008 at 10:20 pm

    I’m glad you liked it! What kind of project?

  5. levati Says:
    May 29th, 2008 at 4:39 am

    Deep feel­ing has always live much more longer than author could imag­ine. Even if the time is gone the echo of the emo­tion­al expe­ri­ence can help us to paint each episode of our mem­o­ry, espe­cial­ly when we met the song or the poet­ry which accor­dant to our impres­sion.

    Per­haps, that is rea­son because we are in need of art.