(no subject)

[vriad_lee]

A Poison Tree by William Blake


I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Comments

[poemtree.livejournal.com]

this was one of my favorite poems when i was fifteen.

[vriad-lee.livejournal.com]

i don't understand most of the poems i read. like, i don't understand a part of them usually. for example,


And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole


i understand, but i don't. hatred that turns into someting that attracts the object of hatred, i can't place it, like i can't find parallels in real life. although that vagueness is maybe the most interesting thing in poems that i like

[poemtree.livejournal.com]

sometimes you don't have to understand everything in a poem. i mean, at least that's what i believe. i understand only maybe the gist of most of my favorite poems, it's better this way. either that or i am ignorant.

[inconvenience.livejournal.com]

I agree.
Magic tricks are better unknown.

[vriad-lee.livejournal.com]

sometimes i realize that i have understood something completely after many years. sometimes after some while you can't imagine that you couldn't understand it -- everything is so obvious. by that time i'm usually no longer interested though

[starshoj.livejournal.com]

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye