Enemy of Entropy

Poetry: Edna St. Vincent Millay

12 February 2008, 11:39 pm. 5 Comments. Filed under Poetry.

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

5 Comments »

  1. avatar Born Again Bird Watcher. 13 February 2008, 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. avatar cyn. 13 February 2008, 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. avatar Good Girl Gone Bad. 20 February 2008, 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. avatar cyn. 20 February 2008, 10:20 pm

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

  5. avatar levati. 29 May 2008, 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.

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