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1
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Rain falls for centuries
Soaking the loose rocks in space
Sweet rain, the fire's out
The black snag glistens in the rain
& the last wisp of smoke floats up
(Gary Snyder (b. 1930), U.S. poet. Burning (l. 24-28). . .
No Nature; New and Selected Poems [Gary Snyder]. (1992) Pantheon Books.)
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Gary Snyder
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2
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On the day of breasts and small hips
the window pocked with bad rain,
rain coming on like a minister,
we coupled, so sane and insane.
(Anne Sexton (1928-1974), U.S. poet. "Song for a Lady.")
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Anne Sexton
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3
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Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.
I tax you not, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, called you children.
(William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lear, in King Lear, act 3, sc. 2, l. 14-7.
Welcoming thunder, lightning, and rain in his anger.)
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William Shakespeare
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4
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Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.
I tax you not, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, called you children.
(William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lear, in King Lear, act 3, sc. 2, l. 14-7.
Welcoming thunder, lightning, and rain in his anger.)
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William Shakespeare
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5
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There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog.
(Federico Garcνa Lorca (1898-1936), Spanish poet, playwright. Lecture, March 1932, Madrid. "A Poet in New York," Poet in New York (1940, trans. 1988).)
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Federico Garcνa Lorca
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6
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The laying of fish on the embers,
the taste of the fish,
the feel of the texture of bread,
the round and the half-loaf,
the grain of a petal,
the rain-bow and the rain.
(Hilda Doolittle (1886-1961), U.S. poet. "Magician [Master]....")
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Hilda Doolittle
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7
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Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.
(John Updike (b. 1932), U.S. author, critic. Self-Consciousness: Memoirs, ch. 1 (1989).)
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John Updike
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8
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Tasting of the sweet damp woods and of the rain one inch above the meadow:
It was like feasting upon air.
(William Jay Smith (b. 1918), U.S. poet. Morels (l. 29-31). . .
Book of Nature Poems, A. William Cole, comp. (1969) The Viking Press.)
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William Jay Smith
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