Les Murray

(17 October 1938)

Les Murray Poems

41. Aurora Prone 1/13/2003
42. The Butter Factory 1/13/2003
43. Comete 1/13/2003
44. Shower 1/13/2003
45. Performance 1/13/2003
46. Flowering Eucalypt In Autumn 1/13/2003
47. The Dream Of Wearing Shorts Forever 1/13/2003
48. A Retrospect Of Humidity 1/13/2003
49. Noonday Axeman 10/15/2005
50. Bat's Ultrasound 1/13/2003
51. Late Summer Fires 1/13/2003
52. The Aboriginal Cricketer 1/13/2003
53. Inside Ayers Rock 1/13/2003
54. Music To Me Is Like Days 1/13/2003
55. Pigs 1/13/2003
56. Poetry And Religion 1/13/2003
57. On Home Beaches 1/13/2003
58. The Meaning Of Existence 1/13/2003
59. An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow 1/13/2003

Comments about Les Murray

  • crackrock (4/25/2018 11:46:00 PM)

    aye mannn I liked dis poem aye these dogs didn't let me post the 1st time so aye shot g

    1 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • crackrock (4/25/2018 11:41:00 PM)

    aye ba dis was good as aye wanna see u make more bro

  • djay escobar (4/25/2018 11:40:00 PM)

    i woved dis peom a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot and alot

  • Robert Norton (4/17/2018 5:45:00 PM)

    At the end of 2016, we made a documentary interview with Les Murray and Valerie Murray at their home in Bunyah. The video is now available at:

    https: //vimeo.com/254992802

    You may want to use this video to see a current snapshot of Les and Valerie. There is no cost, but would appreciate it if you do so.

  • Bhagavathi Sudarshan (8/11/2008 3:02:00 AM)

    Nodoubt its a very fantastic poem. It's my al time favourite! Its so simple, yet so profound. Long live my sweetest poet Les Murray!
    Regards
    Bhagavathi Sudarshan
    bangalore
    karnataka

Best Poem of Les Murray

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him.

The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
There's a fellow weeping down there. No one can...

Read the full of An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

On The Borders

We're driving across tableland
somewhere in the world;
it is almost bare of trees.

Upland near void of features
always moves me, but not to thought;
it lets me rest from thinking.

I feel no need to interpret it

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