Elizabeth Bishop

(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979 / Worcester, Massachusetts)

Elizabeth Bishop Poems

41. Sandpiper 1/3/2003
42. The Unbeliever 1/3/2003
43. The Monument 1/3/2003
44. Cirque D'Hiver 1/13/2003
45. Love Lies Sleeping 1/13/2003
46. Poem 1/3/2003
47. The Map 1/3/2003
48. Giant Toad 1/13/2003
49. Casabianca 1/3/2003
50. Cape Breton 1/13/2003
51. Five Flights Up 1/3/2003
52. Letter To N.Y. 1/13/2003
53. Arrival At Santos 1/13/2003
54. Conversation 1/13/2003
55. Argument 1/3/2003
56. The Moose 1/3/2003
57. Chemin De Fer 1/13/2003
58. First Death In Nova Scotia 1/3/2003
59. Florida 1/13/2003
60. Filling Station 1/3/2003
61. A Summer’s Dream 4/7/2010
62. Exchanging Hats 1/13/2003
63. Anaphora 1/3/2003
64. At The Fishhouses 1/3/2003
65. A Prodigal 1/3/2003
66. Insomnia 1/3/2003
67. Sestina 1/3/2003
68. In The Waiting Room 1/3/2003
69. A Miracle For Breakfast 1/3/2003
70. The Fish 1/3/2003
71. I Am In Need Of Music 1/3/2003
72. One Art 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Elizabeth Bishop

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ...

Read the full of One Art

Rain Towards Morning

The great light cage has broken up in the air,
freeing, I think, about a million birds
whose wild ascending shadows will not be back,
and all the wires come falling down.
No cage, no frightening birds; the rain
is brightening now. The face is pale
that tried the puzzle of their prison
and solved it with an unexpected kiss,
whose freckled unsuspected hands alit.

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