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R.S. Thomas’s Followers (55)
R.S. Thomas
Born
in Cardiff, Wales
March 29, 1913
Died
September 25, 2000
Genre
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Collected Poems: 1945-1990
—
published
1993
—
16 editions
|
|
|
R.S. Thomas
by
—
published
1997
—
4 editions
|
|
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Selected Poems
—
published
1973
—
6 editions
|
|
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Collected Later Poems
—
published
2004
—
7 editions
|
|
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No Truce With the Furies
|
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R. S. Thomas: Everyman Poetry
by
—
published
2012
—
3 editions
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|
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Poems of R.S. Thomas
—
published
1985
—
5 editions
|
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R.S. Thomas: Uncollected Poems
by
—
published
2013
—
4 editions
|
|
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Mass for Hard Times
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published
1992
—
4 editions
|
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Laboratories of the spirit
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“The furies are at home
in the mirror; it is their address.
Even the clearest water,
if deep enough can drown.
Never think to surprise them.
Your face approaching ever
so friendly is the white flag
they ignore. There is no truce
with the furies. A mirror’s temperature
is always at zero. It is ice
in the veins. Its camera
is an X—ray. It is a chalice
held out to you in
silent communion, where gaspingly
you partake of a shifting
identity never your own.”
―
in the mirror; it is their address.
Even the clearest water,
if deep enough can drown.
Never think to surprise them.
Your face approaching ever
so friendly is the white flag
they ignore. There is no truce
with the furies. A mirror’s temperature
is always at zero. It is ice
in the veins. Its camera
is an X—ray. It is a chalice
held out to you in
silent communion, where gaspingly
you partake of a shifting
identity never your own.”
―
“You have to imagine
a waiting that is not impatient
because it is timeless.”
― The Echoes Return Slow
a waiting that is not impatient
because it is timeless.”
― The Echoes Return Slow
“I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
on to a receeding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.”
― Selected Poems
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
on to a receeding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.”
― Selected Poems
Topics Mentioning This Author
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