Tuesday, December 5, 2006

Poems

Poetry turns all things to loveliness: it exalts the beauty of that which is most beautiful, and it adds beauty to that which is most deformed: it marries exultation and horror; grief and pleasure, eternity and change; it subdues to union under its light yoke all irreconcilable things. It transmutes all that it touches, and every form moving within the radiance of its presence is changed by wondrous sympathy to an incarnation of the spirit which it breathes: its secret alchemy turns to potable gold the poisonous waters which flow from death through life; it strips the veil of familiarity from the world, and lays bare the naked and sleeping beauty which is the spirit of its forms.

(Percy Bysshe Shelley, A Defense of Poetry, 1812)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I wish I could use the English language half as eloquently as this. Nice excerpt. Gets one thinking about the way we simply communicate with one another. I sometimes wish that people still talked like this. With really powerful words and not just blithering babble.