Category Archives: Poetry

Body, Remember

Let’s have some more Cavafy, shall we? His words come across so excellently in English, one must wonder how beautiful they must be in their native Greek! It’s enough to make a gardener want to learn another language.

You’ll often find this as “Body, Remember” or “Remember, Body” depending on the translation, but I’m pretty sure the correct title is this one:

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She Comes Not

She comes not when Noon is on the roses–
  Too bright is Day.
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
  From work and play.

But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
  Roll in from Sea,
By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight
  She comes to me.


(Herbert  Trench)

A Red, Red Rose

Robert Burns single-handedly made the Scottish way of speaking English not only known but genteel. Or so goes the story. He definitely contributed to its popular knowledge and popularity with his poetry, written in the Scots dialect. As odd as it seems, especially to those for whom English is not their first language, there is a wonderful honesty to the way it is worded and spelled.

And, of course, it’s good poetry.

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