A favourite poem, what’s yours? #6

9 May

Alfonsina Storni
May 29, 1892 – October 25, 1938

Alfonsina Storni. (Fotografía extraída del sit...

This lady has a very colourful background having travelled and lived in many parts of Western Europe and South America. She was a single parent, wrote about the erotic asides to life and given the era in which she lived, blazed a feminist trail with her perspective on the battle of the sexes. Her disregard for men was quite obvious. In 1938, broken hearted and ailing with breast cancer she died at sea under sad and suspicious circumstances if not, a somewhat dramatic explanation of events.Storni was only very recently brought to my attention by a fellow blogger and I don’t know enough of her work yet, to call her a firm favourite. However, the trilogy I have selected says so much of who this extraordinary lady was in quite a short space. Enjoy.

Sweet Torture

My melancholy was gold dust in your hands;
On your long hands I scattered my life;
My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands;
Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied

How much sweet torture quietly suffered,
When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness,
She who knows the tricks, I passed the days
kissing the two hands that stifled my life

Little Little Man

Little little man, little little man,
set free your canary that wants to fly.
I am that canary, little little man,
leave me to fly.

I was in your cage, little little man,
little little man who gave me my cage.
I say “little little” because you don’t understand me
Nor will you understand.

Nor do I understand you, but meanwhile,
open for me the cage from which I want to escape.
Little little man, I loved you half an hour,
Don’t ask me again.

I Am Going to Sleep

Teeth of flowers, hairnet of dew,
hands of herbs, you, perfect wet nurse,
prepare the earthly sheets for me
and the down quilt of weeded moss.

I am going to sleep, my nurse, put me to bed.
Set a lamp at my headboard;
a constellation; whatever you like;
all are good: lower it a bit.

Leave me alone: you hear the buds breaking through . . .
a celestial foot rocks you from above
and a bird traces a pattern for you

so you’ll forget . . . Thank you. Oh, one request:
if he telephones again
tell him not to keep trying for I have left . . .

Español: Firma de Alfonsina Storni


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9 Responses to “A favourite poem, what’s yours? #6”

  1. midnighthues 9 May, 2012 at 5:09 PM #

    I didn’t quite understand this ping that you posted on my page. I am new to blogging and trying to figure this mind boggling technical stuff. I am not sure why my poem has been placed in the related articles here.

    • poetart 9 May, 2012 at 6:13 PM #

      I’ve never understood pings.. lol! I’m not the person to ask, but I know they appear depending on the links in the actual post. Thanks for your commenting all the same. :)

      • midnighthues 9 May, 2012 at 7:03 PM #

        Lol…. it is easy to write poetry but difficult to figure out the tech stuff ;-). I posted my favorite poem below. Thank you!

  2. A Rhythm Runs Through It 9 May, 2012 at 5:37 PM #

    First off, thanks for the follow! I have returned the favor :-D

    I have SEVERAL favorite poems, but one my absolute favorites is “Because I could not stop for death,” by Emily Dickinson (http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/english/melani/cs6/stop.html)
    LOVE this post, BTW, she is new to me as well, and I definitely like the work you put here…Especially these lines:

    “My melancholy was gold dust in your hands;
    On your long hands I scattered my life;
    My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands;
    Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied”


    Can’t wait to continue our exchange!


    • poetart 9 May, 2012 at 6:19 PM #

      You picked out some beautiful lines there, I’m also particularly taken by the ‘vial of perfume,’ line.. so poignant (and sad). I love ED’s bathos, she is a master at it. Nice piece, so balanced, thanks for sharing it. :)

  3. midnighthues 9 May, 2012 at 6:25 PM #

    Alright here goes my favorite poem by
    Sarojini Naidu, an Indian poet and a freedom fighter.
    LIKE this alabaster box whose art 
    Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart, 
    Carven with delicate dreams and wrought 
    With many a subtle and exquisite thought.
    Therein I treasure the spice and scent 
    Of rich and passionate memories blent 
    Like odours of cinnamon, sandal and clove, 
    Of song and sorrow and life and love. 

    -Sarojini Naidu


    • poetart 10 May, 2012 at 12:19 AM #

      You had me a freedom fighter…
      This poem is exquisite and powerful. Thanks for sharing it with me. :)


  1. A favourite poem, what’s yours? « poetArt - 16 May, 2012

    [...] Alfonsina Storni [...]

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