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the poppies QUOTES

the poppies QUOTES

1 " Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands
Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken,
Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken,
Luminously-peopled air ascends;
And past the poppies bluish neutral distance
Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach
Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence:
Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach. "

― Philip Larkin , The Whitsun Weddings

2 " The greatest events of life often leave one unmoved; they pass out of consciousness, and, when one thinks of them, become unreal. Even the scarlet flowers of passion seem to grow out in the same meadow as the poppies of oblivion. We reject the burden of their memory, and have anodynes against them. But the little things, the things of no moment, remain with us. "

― Oscar Wilde , The Portrait of Mr. W.H.

3 " Scarlet the poppies
Blue the corn-flowers,
Golden the wheat.
Gold for the Eternal:
Blue for Our Lady:
Red for the five
Wounds of her Son. "

― Adelaide Crapsey , Verse by Adelaide Crapsey

4 " In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below
We are the Dead
Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow/Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields
Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you from failing hands we throw The torch
be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep/though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields "

― John McCrae , In Flanders Fields

5 " Trying to remember old dreams. A voice. Who came in.
And meanwhile the rain, all day, all evening,
quiet steady sound. Before it grew too dark
watched the blue iris leaning under the rain,
the flame of the poppies guttered and went out.
A voice. Almost recalled. There have been times
the gods entered. Entered a room, a cave?
A long enclosure where I was, the fourth wall of it
too distant or too dark to see. The birds are silent,
no moths at the lit windows. Only a swaying rosebush
pierces the table’s reflection, raindrops gazing from it.
There have been hands laid on my shoulders.
What has been said to me,
how has my life replied?
The rain, the rain... "

― Denise Levertov , Poems, 1968-1972

6 " In Flanders' fields the poppies blow Between the crosses row on row That mark our place and in the sky The larks still bravely singing fly Scarce heard among the guns below. "