Edward Hirsch

(20 January 1950 / Chicago)

Edward Hirsch Poems

1. A Greek Island 4/2/2015
2. The Skokie Theater 1/20/2012
3. I'M Going To Start Living Like A Mystic 1/20/2012
4. Branch Library 1/20/2012
5. What The Last Evening Will Be Like 1/20/2012
6. To Poetry 1/20/2012
7. After A Long Insomniac Night 1/20/2012
8. In Memoriam Paul Celan 1/20/2003
9. Early Sunday Morning 1/20/2012
10. Wild Gratitude 1/20/2012
11. Lay Back The Darkness 1/20/2012
12. Fall 1/20/2012
13. The Widening Sky 1/20/2012
14. Amour Honestus 11/20/2014
15. Poor Angels 1/20/2012
16. Fast Break 1/13/2003
17. Edward Hopper And The House By The Railroad (1925) 1/20/2012
18. For The Sleepwalkers 1/20/2012
19. Cotton Candy 2/18/2015
20. Late March 1/20/2012

Comments about Edward Hirsch

  • Elaine Bauman (4/26/2018 6:24:00 AM)

    Edward Hirsch is killing me softly. Each poem speaks deep into my heart.

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Sawsan Elgamal Sawsan Elgamal (5/12/2017 11:13:00 PM)

    Edward Hirsch is the most inspiring poet that I learned from his books. I find myself through his words, like if we came from the same world now or even in another life I don't know, but that what I feel.

    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Best Poem of Edward Hirsch

Late March

Saturday morning in late March.
I was alone and took a long walk,
though I also carried a book
of the Alone, which companioned me.

The day was clear, unnaturally clear,
like a freshly wiped pane of glass,
a window over the water,
and blue, preternaturally blue,
like the sky in a Magritte painting,
and cold, vividly cold, so that
you could clap your hands and remember
winter, which had left a few moments ago—
if you strained you could almost see it
disappearing over the hills in a black parka.
Spring was coming but hadn't arrived yet.
I walked...

Read the full of Late March

Poor Angels

At this hour the soul floats weightlessly
through the city streets, speechless and invisible,
astonished by the smoky blend of grays and golds
seeping out of the air, the dark half-tones

of dusk suddenly filling the urban sky
while the body sits listlessly by the window
sullen and heavy, too exhausted to move,
too weary to stand up or to lie down.

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