Word: poem
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...autobiographical sketch: "Oh Lord! That forest was full of everything that morning! The sun was piercing it in all directions . . . And like the light and shadows shimmering in the forest, like the singing birds flitting from branch to branch, sections of Scriabin's Third Symphony or Divine Poem, which was being composed at the piano in the neighboring house, spread and echoed under the foliage." The adolescent Pasternak decided that he was "destined for music." But crestfallen that he lacked absolute pitch and that he could not even properly play what he had composed. Pasternak abandoned music after...
...Parisians got used to glass façades and folded concrete, the new UNESCO was steadily winning new friends. "This architecture is done with such talent that it goes perfectly with the Ecole Militaire," decided former Chief of French Museums Georges Salles. "A splendid poem in concrete and glass," said Paris' leading art review, L'Oeil. And from the top of the Eiffel Tower, guides were beginning matter-of-factly to point out UNESCO as one of the marvels of Paris. Modern architecture, like modern art, was beginning to seem like something the French had been in favor...
...even harder to recognize. This is particularly true when they are written in verse, and when they presumably lose their pristine shine in the process of translation. It has taken 20 years for The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel to reach English in hexameter from its original modern Greek. The poem has not been translated into any other language and so is virtually unknown outside its native Greece. But in it, chances are, U.S. readers have a masterpiece at hand, in a fine translation...
...Zorba the Greek, a flashing testament to the proposition that every minute of life should be lived to the sensuous, sensual hilt. At least twice, reportedly, he failed to win the Nobel Prize by the narrowest of margins. By taking for his own the name of Homer's poem, by adopting Odysseus as his own hero, Kazantzakis has underlined the audacity of his undertaking. His 33,333 lines measure its vastness. But the poem's real boldness lies not so much in affinities or in size as in what it sets out to do: to relate...
...rest of this issue fall short, in varying degrees, of the quality of the four pieces mentioned above. Sandy has another poem, "Vale," of "the morning after" variety. Some good metaphors lose out to bad ones and hazy grammar. "We See No Phoenix," by Jonathan Revere, is confused by inconsistent metaphor, though some bright colors and clear rhymes save it from dullness...