Skip to main content

Lines for Winter- Mark Strand: 1934 - 2014


Hans Hofmann, White in Blue, 1947



Lines for Winter
by Mark Strand
for Ros Krauss

Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself—
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.





Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Retrospective: Sylvester Stallone - Paintings 1975 - 2015

Sylvester Stallone, Untitled (Michael Jackson) , 2010 Real Love: Paintings 1975 - 2015 Opened on May 16th Musée d'Art Moderne et d'Art Contemporaine Place Yves Klein 06364 Nice cedex 4 For more information visit artnet news .

Franz Kline: In Color

Franz Kline (1910-1962) is often pigeonholed as a "black and white" painter. Above is a selection of work by the Ab-Ex master in which color merges with gesture and at times takes center stage.

After Lorca By Ted Hughes

Arshile Gorky, Dark Green Painting , ca.1948, oil on canvas, 43 3/4 x 55 1/2 in. © 2009 Estate of Arshile Gorky/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. AFTER LORCA by Ted Hughes The clock says "When will it be morning?"   The sun says "Noon hurt me."  The river cries with its mouthful of mud  And the sea moves every way without moving. Out of my ear grew a reed   Never touched by mouth.  Paper yellows, even without flame,  But in words carbon has already become diamond. A supple river of mirrors I run on   Where great shadows rise to the glance,  Flowing all forward and bringing  The world through my reflection. A voice like a ghost that is not   Rustle that dead in passage  Leaving the living chilled,  Wipe clear the pure glass of stone. Wipe clear the pure stone of flesh. A son...