Great poems. January. To echo. Maybe some of these poems will inspire you. I really liked the Black Virgin, and several of these I have memorized just from sheer lovingness and stupidity.

Have a great day.

W S Merwin is a great poetic genius, & this book is my favorite of what I've read by him. He writes with uncompromising exactness & economy...& I don't think there's any punctuation in the whole book. The flaring experience of the first poems becomes a kind of alembic or magnifying glass focusing of the physical world into frictionless thinking in the journey to the last few blank pages. Poems such as the waltzingly elliptical "To the Spiders of this Room" & exponentially metaphorical "Flight of Language"...& all the rest...exhibit his lexical mastery; opening lines such as "Mist iridescent over the rice fields", the brilliant imagination. As a sidenote...is the poem "The Marfa Lights" in this book a hark back to James Tate's poem "Marfa"...?

This is one of the greatest books of modern poetry. It is a book for a quiet Sunday afternoon, sitting alone, let the words flow and guide one to the pervading essence. I can't begin to write as wonderful a review as Mr. Pipper wrote. I second everything he said and feel that as impossible as it may seem this poem makes one feel that you the reader are special for the reading of it and one wonders if there is another alien in the universe who can think or feel these words. The pupil is the poet, his childhood musings, not literal but as points of departure to create (what was that wonderful word Pipper used -- "capaciousness") -- yes that's it, a three dimensional experience of time and space. The entire book should really be read from cover to cover as the effect is transforming and accumulative.
Now if you think I said anything, you're as crazy as i am but to experience this poem is to make friends with yourself all over again.

THE ARCHITECT'S BROTHER is one of the most beautiful monographs of photography to be released in years. These 'constructions' created by the husband/wife team under the name of Robert ParkeHarrison meld painting, sculpture, stage props, photo-manipulation, collages of natural debris, and megatons of inspired genius to create staged photomontages that are at times amusing, melancholic, wistful, and spiritualy uplifting. Speaking to the earth through a huge megaphone made of bark, anchoring clouds, flying suspended by lassoed birds - let your imagination take you there. The quality of the book is up to the luxurious standard of format of Twin Palms Press. There is an added three brief pages of comment in the form a quotaton by W.S. Merwin entitled 'Unchopping a Tree' which is what this entire collection is about - man's attempt to mimic nature....and the sweet sadness of the knowledge that he can't.

Robert ParkeHarrison is an outstanding photographer, who creates disturbing images from photographs using sculpture, painting and aspects of theater to produce a surreal image. He appears in every photograph, acting as explorer, victim and conjurer performing actions that evoke a sense of ritual and metaphor, and frequently leave the viewer dazzled.

His is a magical world, lightning strikes, huge flowers explode and clouds and dark holes spin across the horizon. This is a mystical world that recalls to me the world of the major arcana of the Tarot. The figure vacillates between Mage, Fool and Hierophant. Who is the Architect, I wonder. Is his brother an assistant or an opponent? Many of the images are ambivalent, touching on both darkness and light, making a clear decision impossible. The figure seems melancholy, engaged in strange almost hopeless acts. But he persists, carrying on a quest intended to heal or repair a desolate world.

Despite a great difference in subject matter, these images remind me a great deal of Joel Peter Witkin, who is another Twin Palms photographer. Witkin's images also evoke a sense of myth and legend and have many readings. Both photographers manipulate their images extensively (with their wives as co-conspirators as well). And both have wonderful imaginations that seem to flourish against the somewhat humdrum backdrop of today's world.

A slipcased, signed edition exists, but is becoming quite rare. This edition and the trade edition are beautifully produced by Twin Palms, who manage to capture the real spirit of this work. By all means buy the "The Architect's Brother" if you are interested in non-traditional photography. You won't be disappointed.

Buy this book for your local library. Parke Harrison, a husband and wife team create spellbinding photographs that take days to prepare. Inspired by an individual spiritual drive the photographs depict characters portrayed by Robert that interact with the earth, usually through some fantastic contraption like a cloud machine.

The effect is other worldly and haunting. The effects created photographically are enhanced by handpainting over the photos. Originally working with beeswax and pigments, travelling and the wear induced led to exploration of acrylic mediums. This is a dream for mixed media minded people.

.... William Merwin opens "The River Sound" with songs of praise for the natural world in that familiar voice: his fluid, sonorous blend of elegy and ecstasy, sometimes tinged with bitterness about the earth's degradation at human hands. Like his earlier poems, these rejoice in beginnings--dawns, the freshly wakened spirit, "April with the first light sifting/ through the young leaves," the Hudson River before British explorers arrived. Then Merwin turns his attention to history and aging. As he contemplates the past that shaped him, the people and events he has known begin to resemble "the ancient shaping of water/ to which the light of an hour comes back as to a secret." It seems that the poet of mornings has made a new, personal peace with history and change.

The book is a dazzling collection of poems, wise and playful. "Lament for the Makers" is a series of affectionate, quirky eulogies for poets who influenced Merwin and who died during his lifetime, and a confession of his tendency to see himself (partly because of his early rise to literary fame) as "the youngest on the block." This self-image lasted, he wryly admits, long after "the notes in some anthology/ listed persons born after me." The glorious heart of the book is the moving 60-page "Testimony," a leisurely, often funny family history about reaching an age when "the open unrepeatable/ present in which [we] wake and live" becomes "a still life still alive": at last we "know/ what to do with it." The poet ends "Testimony" by bequeathing treasures (a walk shared, a river heard together, a whole Manhattan city block) to each of his life's companions.

Merwin's sentences often run together without punctuation but (as in other work) not merely to echo the rivers, the music, or the sympathetic imagination winding through his pages. His stream of language invites readers inside it as collaborators in its syntax, listening for the sounds of the phrases in the mind's mouth. This intimate sharing of speech is just one of the great pleasures of "The River Sound," written by a premier American poet at the pinnacle of his craft.

W. S. Merwin just goes on making these beautiful poems that sing of the journey of self into Self, past into present, love into the sublime. He speaks with an individual voice that calls forth our collective voice. These poems are archetypal and personal...the best you can hope to find.

W. S. Merwin has had a long time to develop his unique style of writing. And it's not the average lyricism that draws one to him as a poet; it's the haunting flow of the human voice that lies behind not only the structure of each poem but the meter as well. You won't find any punctuation in this book. Merwin lends us no helpful guide to reading. Unless you're tuned in to the flow of person-speak, it's going to be hard to comes to grips with what he's trying to accomplish. Besides his abilities at form, Merwin also gives us his long autobiographical poem "Testimony." "Lament for the Makers" is a medium length poem describing his poetical influences throughout his life. And since "A Mask for Janus" Merwin has been delighting us with his individualized sense of the poetic. He has not failed us with "The River Sound."

this book was like merwin pouring his heart and soul onto paper, evoked emotions and memories of long ago!

I suggest reading on, because I have a small but appropriate few sentences to write about Merwin. I first came across Merwin when I was assigned to find a poet I liked who was still living for a poetry class. That is to say, not living for my poetry class in particular, but, a poet still alive, so my known favorites, Solomon of the Superlative Song, William Morris, Eugene Fields or Henry W. Longfellow, writers of, among other things nursey rhymes from my chldhood, nor John Keats fulfilled this alive requirement. As a result, I found myself looking to the song lyrics of the 60s and 70s I'd listened to growing up, my father being a pseudo-hippie, him not knowing that I was actually listening to the words. I say this because it is precisely this music which encouraged me to look into poetry. Unfortunately, my professor was not about to accept song lyrics from Jethro Tull or Queen, though members of the bands might still be living, which was good for me, or I never would have discovered Merwin. It was the first time I opened a book of poetry and found what I was feeling written the way I thought. Suddenly whatever feelings merely drifting at the edges of my subconscious which I had no real way of dealing with were right there on the page before me as though someone had read my mind. It was not eerie, at all, either -- it was just like being an adolescent and literally feeling one's feelings being relayed by rock and roll, or any kind of music for all the world to hear, and glad someone finally understood and was on your side. And so you go out and buy the tape, becasue it's like hearing a good friend's voice, perhaps one that relieves you of tension, or helps you formulate thoughts on the order of the world and your place in things, a friend to reassure and support you. That's what these poems are like, friends that you can read again and again, and be reassured that there is someone out there who understands you, and who can voice what you are thinking when you can't, and these revelations you can keep to yourself, or more likely share with the world, for everyone should have such a friend.

Merwin touches the universal with specifics. Merwin's book bears a simplicity lacking in much of what we do today. His word choice in these poems rarely indicates they were written in the 1970's, but the style is poignantly modern nonetheless. As subjects, Merwin takes nature, aging and friendships. He peppers these with haunting feelings of hollowness, biblical allusions, and the occasional phrase that I cannot reconcile to the poems containing it. With Merwin, though, I remains content and know that a little ambiguity at the edges will keep me returning to the poem year after year.

Here are 270 pages of the most sublimely beautiful poems in English that I have ever read. Sam Hamill has brought us one step closer to the music of an ancient and culturally distant aesthetic that, until the modernist revolution of the last century, was closed to English speaking readers and writers.

It is difficult to overestimate the impact that Chinese poetry in translation had on modern poetry in English. Arthur Waley's *170 Chinese Poems* and Ezra Pound's enormously important adaptions in *Cathay* are cornerstones of modernism. Kenneth Rexroth's translations, starting with *100 Poems from the Chinese*, were equally as important to the last quarter of the 20th century. Moreover, the interest that these translations produced sparked an interest in world poetry, that completely transformed poetry in English during the last 50 years. The obvious issue that is always before the reader of poetry in translation is authenticity. Octavio Paz said all poetry is translation. Still, as a reader, it's impossible to know what distance is really spanned in the journey from Tu Fu's mouth to my ears.

I think this book goes a long way toward settling, if not answering some of these concerns. I don't read classical Chinese, so I don't know exactly how accurate these translations are. Nevertheless, Sam Hamill's informative (though somewhat loopy) introduction makes a strong case for thier reliability. By showing his method, he inspires confidence that not only are you reading beautiful English poems, but that what you're reading is speaking to over the bridge of centuries and cultures.

The center 100 pages of this amazing book contains probably the finest translations to date of China's great 8th century poets, Li Po, Wang Wei, and Tu Fu (who is, according to K. Rexroth, the greatest non-epic, non-dramatic poet in any language in the history of the world). These treasures are surrounded by a generous selection of poems dating from the 1st century BCE to the 16th century CE.

Whether you already love poetry or you want to start loving it, don't pass up the enrichment that these poems can bring to your life.

The first book, after Rexroth, of Chinese poems I ever read from cover to cover in one sitting, for the pure joy of it, was Sam Hamill's first book of translations. Crossing the Yellow River is simply more and better, as far as I'm concerned. Great reading.

This is a wonderful, heart-wrenching short book, a fictionalization of the migration of a lone Eskimo Curlew from the arctic to South America and back.

The Eskimo Curlew was once a plentiful shorebird that was highly sought after by hunters because of the succulence of its flesh and the ease with which it could be taken. Usually flying in dense swarms, a score or more birds could be brought down by a single shotgun blast. In some cases so many were killed, that the hunters left those that could not be transported to market in massive piles. And so it came to pass that by the late 19th-century, the Eskimo Curlew population declined rapidly, to the point where it was virtually extinct at the time Bodsworth wrote the book.

Although a work of fiction, this is a book that should be read by everyone who has an interest in Nature and the environment.

Bodsworth is brilliant in his capacity to provide the reader with an emotionally arrousing text, supported by fascinating technical details of bird migration. I cannot imagine that anyone having even a remote interest in birds, nature or life, would not be moved by this great piece.

I doubt anyone will ever see this review, but I thought I'd submit one anyway. Never have I experienced a book that so forced me to put it down every few pages, from its overwhelming sadness and beauty. Merwin, who championed this rare gem, once wrote: "If I were not human, I would have nothing to be ashamed of." Truly, this is the kind of reading experience that cuts to the core of our species' tragic history.

Davis McCombs's poems vividly evoke a strange and fantastic landscape. Kentucky's Mammoth Cave and the world above it are so fundamental to the narrator's voice and the poet's that it is as if all these elements are of a piece. What a tremendous debut!

It seems to me that Davis McCombs's Ultima Thule has something particularly and refreshingly American about it. His writing shows a real craftsman's touch and sureness of hand. This remarkable book of poems is more than a reflection on the natural wonder of Kentucky's caves, it is a rare and mysterious exploration of the human spirit past and present.

How beautiful to listen to slave/cave guide Stephen Bishop reflect on life through the continued metaphor of the cave. Yes, the voice belongs to a contemporary white university man, but the words are so real and the thoughts as deep as the bottomless chasms he describes. Thank you to WS Merwin for choosing such a poet, who does not dwell on the vulgar and the ugly as so many do, but instead drinks in beauty.

I am a newcomer to the poetry of Pablo Neruda. "Twenty Poems and a Song of Despair" is simply one of the best volumes of poetry I have ever read. What a vast horizon opened up to me when I picked up this book! Rarely have I encountered a poet that so palpably evokes longing. Few other poets have Neruda's ability to weave images. These poems burrow into the heart.

My Spanish is not what it should be, but I was able to read most of the poetry here in the original. For those who know no Spanish, do not be deterred. This volume is the work of not just one but two masterful poets. Merwin's translations are amazing and wholly recommendable. Striking images and a yearning spirit fill the English translations as well as Neruda's originals.

I was also caught off guard by poem XVI. I was reading along, thinking how I had not read poetry this full of longing and desire since I last read Tagore's "Gitanjali" ..., when lo and behold, Poem XVI is a Spanish paraphrase of a Tagore poem...small world.

Neruda's poems are of filled with a powerful Eros. Yet, to me, they fall a little short in comparison to those of Tagore (whose love is a spiritual longing). However, the comparison is clearly between two giants of the art.

I give "Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair" a strong recommendation.

Buy this book and hesitate to read - all other poetry afterwards will pale in comparison. Then buy a copy of Neruda's autobiography to understand how Neruda can 'write the saddest lines'. I have given Twenty Love Poems and a song of Despair more frequently than any other gift. The perfect Valentine's or anniversary gift.

Other Neruda fans and poetry critics claim that his later works are his best, but I disagree. Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair was Neruda's first published book, done so when he was in his twenties. I think that's what makes this such a great book -- when you couple Neruda's incredible talent with the passion of youth, you get an incredible piece of literature. This is great romantic poetry, full of erotic passion and longing. Neruda knew how to use words to their maximum effect, and his wonderful, innovative use of imagery does what I feel poetry should do: it makes the reader think.

I'm not a big poetry buff but Qabbani just grabbed me. He's an amazing poet who spills his heart throughout this book.

So powerful, so sensual, so incredible. His poetry is earth shaking and primal.

Don't let the fact that his words have been translated from their original Arabic dissuade you from believing that somehow the work isn't as honest as it should be. Qabbani's work is so powerful it hardly matter shwat language it is in. In short, easily read dollops of wit measured out with a voice of quiet urging, he has given us work that transcends time and politics, while being above-it-all.

"If you know a man
who loves you more than I
guide me to him
so I may first congratulate
hom on his constancy
and later, kill him."

If poetry ever had a Luther Vandross, it was Pablo Neruda. If it ever had a Barry White, it was Qabbani.