Talking Poems (by David Yezzi)

Herewith, I’d like to begin an occasional series on the BAP Blog called “Talking Poems” (working title). Here’s the deal: two poems set side by side, or web-friendly north-to-south, for comparison. Here’s the kicker of it: the poems do the talking—to one another (maybe, sort of)—while I say nothing at all. Who breathed that sigh of relief? Your on my list . . . Here’s two for spring (which today actually feels like it is here). But, of course, no sooner is it here than . . .

To Daffodils

by Robert Herrick

 

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain;
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.

Now Herrick, say hello to Frost:

Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Robert Frost

 

Nature's first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.