Frost – The figure a poem makes

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting. A poem may be worked over once it is in being, but may not be worried into being. Its most precious quality will remain its having run itself and carried away the poet with it. Read it a hundred times: it will forever keep its freshness as a metal keeps its fragrance. It can never lose its sense of a meaning that once unfolded by surprise as it went.

One Comment (+add yours?)

  1. mary mccallum
    Jun 10, 2010 @ 13:25:02

    Terrific quote thanks Saradha Koirala. Have linked to it from my blog.

    Reply

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