Used together: seasons, books, a piece of music.
The keys, teacups, bread basket, sheet and a bed.
A hope chest of words, of gestures, brought back, used, used up.
A household order maintained. Said. Done. And always a head was there.
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The concluding lines are much morew impressive. It is really a beautiful poem by Ingeborg Bachmann.
Very poignant poem by Ingeborg Bachman. I particularly like the ending after the 'wordy' build up...says it all really.
2) What a life! Is that because of these sad emotions she had to undergo daily, that she died young? Stress can be the cause number one, I reckon. CONGRATULATIONS for the late poetess's closest relatives, on being chosen as The Modern Poem Of The Day.
All clearly written, but true sad and with great melancholy. As I can read, the poetess herself is no more alive now, she died when she was 47 years young. This knowledge makes for me even being saddest now. I cite the two concluding lines here: It's not you I've lost, but the world........................How very very sad, Another last line: The ringing at the door was the alarm for my joy. This must feel very unhappy, her joy must be activated, it doesn't come spontaneously.
A descriptive but sad poem about losing everything with the loss of one person.
The last two lines leave a touch of sadness. Congratulations on the poem's selection as the 'Modern Poem of the Day'!
Thank God I understand German. The " Gedicht" from Deutschland I have always marveled.
An excellent style of narration of the landscape as also other details visible from home in friendly surroundings has made this poem enjoyable. Congrats on modern poem of the Day.
'wiht summer.' Should read 'with summer' PLEASE RUN SPELL CHECK With the loss of love come other losses as well. The poem creates that feeling of multi-losses.
for you I've fallen in love with all seasons, all flora and fauna if you not come to my love then I'll lose these....
A well crafted poem by Ingeborg Bachmann.......................
Yeah the last line is the substantial line of this poem this is you whom the poet lost o this you are the world