Charles Simic

(1938 / Belgrade)

Charles Simic Poems

1. Mirrors At 4 A.M 4/6/2015
2. On this Very Street in Belgrade 5/16/2015
3. My Shoes 5/25/2015
4. Pigeons at Dawn 6/18/2015
5. Empire of Dreams 11/23/2015
6. Nancy Jane 6/23/2017
7. Old Couple 6/23/2017
8. Past-Lives Therapy 6/23/2017
9. Prodigy 6/23/2017
10. Puppet-Maker 6/23/2017
11. The Stray 6/23/2017
12. Tapestry 6/23/2017
13. Watch Repair 6/23/2017
14. "I am the last . . ." 6/23/2017
15. Fork 6/23/2017
16. The Friends of Heraclitus 6/23/2017
17. Charon's Cosmology 6/23/2017
18. Concerning My Neighbors, the Hittites 6/23/2017
19. Stone 6/24/2017
20. Classic Ballroom Dances 6/24/2017
21. Eastern European Cooking 6/24/2017
22. In the Library 6/24/2017
23. This Morning 6/24/2017
24. The Writings of the Mystics 6/24/2017
25. My Weariness of Epic Proportions 6/24/2017
26. A Letter 6/24/2017
27. Against Whatever It Is That's Encroaching 6/24/2017
28. Evening Walk 6/24/2017
29. Labor and Capital 6/24/2017
30. The Empress 6/24/2017
31. Night Music 6/24/2017
32. So Early in the Morning 6/24/2017
33. The Melon 11/17/2015
34. Secret History 3/17/2015
35. Autumn Sky 4/28/2015
36. Crazy About Her Shrimp 12/15/2014
37. The Wooden Toy 1/13/2003
38. The White Room 1/13/2003
39. This Morning 1/13/2003
40. Pocket Theatre 1/13/2003

Comments about Charles Simic

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  • teeemster at gmail (3/23/2019 11:11:00 PM)

    i'm looking for a Charles Simic poem i remember.
    it was in the New Yorker years ago. (10? 15?)
    the events i recall it describing:
    a bus stop...? [the observer is possibly in the bus...? ]
    snow, or cold...
    a man removing his clothes because he's SO ready for the love of his life... evidence of anyone meeting that description near the bus stop. just a man who is ecstatically and incongruously ready...

    0 person liked.
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  • Mirjana Spasojevic Tinkovich (3/18/2018 7:25:00 PM)

    I am poet and I am from Belgrade, and I live through II world war - my dear brother Charles = I was born 1935. Big solut-hello. Mirjana-Arizona

    0 person liked.
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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (3/5/2016 5:34:00 AM)

    a translation into Italian of the poem 'Meet Eddie' by Charles Simic:

    'Meet Eddie'


    Che ha una vita felice come una lattina di birra
    che precipita a valle lungo un torrente,
    che gira alla larga da alcune rocce
    mentre sbatte a capofitto contro altre,

    e che si lancia un un vortice da far girare la testa
    come una bambina sullo sgabello di un pianoforte,
    con l’acqua che urla al suo rapido passare:
    Sei pronto ad affrontare il tuo Creatore?

    E il bosco attorno comincia a sfoltirsi
    e agli alberi si rizzano i capelli in testa
    mentre lui si prepara ad affrontare le cascate
    come un cieco legato alla sua fisarmonica.

    (Charles Simic - poem tramslated by Damiano Abeni e Moira Egan)

    54 person liked.
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  • Neal Davies (1/18/2015 6:15:00 PM)

    Simic is one of my desert island poets...I've esteemed him with the best of 20th century
    poets. I was surprised to learn he became laureate...guess I figured he was too good to be
    honored by the US Government. Growing up under Nazi occupation would tend to attune
    one to the eerie and fantastic. Always a plate of wilted mushrooms served by a
    one legged dancer....a cornucopia of corn...nbd

    9 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Adnana Karahasanovic Zeljkovic (5/26/2010 3:58:00 AM)

    Aren't we all your metaphor of a meek sheep with dark truth under our eyelids? And what are we going to do about it? / Hamlet's dilemma or waiting for Godo... Isn't all our life about it?

    11 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • John Paisley (8/5/2007 1:10:00 PM)

    Simic got the poet laureate job the other day. I never heard of him before. Some poet. So I been checking him out on the web. Reading his stuff. He has an interview where he quips. He might be a funny guy. Likes jazz. I might like him but first I need to pick him apart.

    11 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
Best Poem of Charles Simic

Against Winter

The truth is dark under your eyelids.
What are you going to do about it?
The birds are silent; there's no one to ask.
All day long you'll squint at the gray sky.
When the wind blows you'll shiver like straw.

A meek little lamb you grew your wool
Till they came after you with huge shears.
Flies hovered over open mouth,
Then they, too, flew off like the leaves,
The bare branches reached after them in vain.

Winter coming. Like the last heroic soldier
Of a defeated army, you'll stay at your post,
Head bared to the first snow flake.
Till a neighbor ...

Read the full of Against Winter

The Something

Here come my night thoughts
On crutches,
Returning from studying the heavens.
What they thought about
Stayed the same,
Stayed immense and incomprehensible.

My mother and father smile at each other
Knowingly above the mantel.