Denise Levertov

(24 October 1923 – 20 December 1997 / Ilford, Essex)

Denise Levertov Poems

1. The 90th Year 12/8/2015
2. At The Justice Department November 15, 1969 12/14/2015
3. To Live in the Mercy of God 8/18/2015
4. Making Peace 12/4/2014
5. Song For Ishtar 4/8/2010
6. The Springtime 4/8/2010
7. The Sage 5/1/2011
8. News Report, September 1991 4/8/2010
9. Partial Resemblance 4/8/2010
10. A Map Of The Western Part Of The County Of Essex In England 4/8/2010
11. Eros 4/8/2010
12. Prisoners 4/8/2010
13. February Evening In New York 4/8/2010
14. Matins 4/8/2010
15. In California: Morning, Evening, Late January 4/8/2010
16. Ein Baum Erzählt Von Orpheus 4/8/2010
17. A Time Past 4/8/2010
18. Caedmon 4/8/2010
19. Goodbye To Tolerance 4/8/2010
20. Triple Feature 1/3/2003
21. Psalm Concerning The Castle 1/3/2003
22. The Great Black Heron 1/3/2003
23. Hypocrite Women 4/8/2010
24. St. Peter And The Angel 1/3/2003
25. Sojourns In The Parallel World 1/3/2003
26. Clouds 4/8/2010
27. The Garden Wall 1/3/2003
28. Web 1/3/2003
29. The Quest 1/3/2003
30. Wanting The Moon 1/3/2003
31. The Sea's Wash In The Hollow Of The Heart... 1/3/2003
32. The Thread 1/13/2003
33. On The Mystery Of The Incarnation 1/3/2003
34. On A Theme By Thomas Merton 1/3/2003
35. The Métier Of Blossoming 1/3/2003
36. The Dog Of Art 1/3/2003
37. Settling 1/3/2003
38. Seeing For A Moment 1/13/2003
39. Zeroing In 1/3/2003
40. Stepping Westward 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Denise Levertov

What Were They Like?

Did the people of Viet Nam
use lanterns of stone?
Did they hold ceremonies
to reverence the opening of buds?
Were they inclined to quiet laughter?
Did they use bone and ivory,
jade and silver, for ornament?
Had they an epic poem?
Did they distinguish between speech and singing?

Sir, their light hearts turned to stone.
It is not remembered whether in gardens
stone gardens illumined pleasant ways.
Perhaps they gathered once to delight in blossom,
but after their children were killed
there were no more buds.
Sir, laughter is bitter to the burned ...

Read the full of What Were They Like?

Seeing For A Moment

I thought I was growing wings—
it was a cocoon.

I thought, now is the time to step
into the fire—
it was deep water.

Eschatology is a word I learned
as a child: the study of Last Things;

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