Edwin Muir

(15 May 1887 – 3 January 1959 / Orkney / Scotland)

Edwin Muir Poems

1. They Could Not Tell Me Who Should Be My Lord 4/1/2010
2. Abraham 1/3/2003
3. Reading In Wartime 4/1/2010
4. Robert The Bruce (To Douglas In Dying) 4/1/2010
5. The Days 4/1/2010
6. In Love For Long 1/3/2003
7. The Angel And The Girl 4/1/2010
8. The Incarnate One 1/3/2003
9. The Fathers 1/3/2003
10. Scotland's Winter 1/3/2003
11. The Good Man In Hell 1/3/2003
12. Circle And Square 1/3/2003
13. The Transfiguration 4/1/2010
14. Scotland 1941 1/3/2003
15. The Combat 1/3/2003
16. The Child Dying 1/3/2003
17. The Killing 4/1/2010
18. Merlin 1/3/2003
19. The Animals 1/3/2003
20. The Castle 1/3/2003
21. The Confirmation 4/1/2010
22. Horses 4/1/2010
23. The Horses 1/3/2003

Comments about Edwin Muir

  • Klaus H Reichstein, Dipl-Übers f Engl u Russ (6/26/2018 4:45:00 AM)

    Mein Hauptinteresse an diesen Gedicht Muirs gilt v a dem hierin ggf erkennbaren Einfluss der Trilogie des Wiener Autoren mosaischer Provenienz Broch DIE SCHLAFWANDLER und deren Thema vom Zerfall der Werte, wie in den Einschüben erkennbar

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  • Klaus H Reichstein, Dipl-Übers f Engl u Russ (6/26/2018 4:11:00 AM)

    I am particularly still interested in exactly that poem especially since I do consider its title already to mirror the age Muir used to live in - with anything changing especially in First World War´s aftermath and ere World War II´s outbreak just like aftermath

  • Penis Willy (9/10/2013 4:42:00 AM)

    it would help if you had eyes

  • J Deakin (10/4/2009 6:17:00 AM)

    I cannot make a comment about Edwin Muir if I cannot read his poem! !

  • J Deakin (10/4/2009 6:15:00 AM)

    I cannot make a comment about Edwin Muir if I cannot read his poem! !

Best Poem of Edwin Muir

The Horses

Barely a twelvemonth after
The seven days war that put the world to sleep,
Late in the evening the strange horses came.
By then we had made our covenant with silence,
But in the first few days it was so still
We listened to our breathing and were afraid.
On the second day
The radios failed; we turned the knobs; no answer.
On the third day a warship passed us, heading north,
Dead bodies piled on the deck. On the sixth day
A plane plunged over us into the sea. Thereafter
Nothing. The radios dumb;
And still they stand in corners of our kitchens,
And stand, ...

Read the full of The Horses

Scotland's Winter

Now the ice lays its smooth claws on the sill,
The sun looks from the hill
Helmed in his winter casket,
And sweeps his arctic sword across the sky.
The water at the mill
Sounds more hoarse and dull.
The miller's daughter walking by
With frozen fingers soldered to her basket
Seems to be knocking

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