Linda Pastan

(1932 - / New York / United States)

Linda Pastan Poems

1. A New Poet 1/13/2003
2. Emily Dickinson 1/13/2003
3. Home For Thanksgiving 1/13/2003
4. I Married You 2/28/2014
5. Jump Cabling 1/13/2003
6. Love Poem 3/12/2006
7. Marks 1/7/2004
8. Meditation By The Stove 1/13/2003
9. Mosaic 12/1/2015
10. On the Steps of the Jefferson Memorial 6/19/2015
11. Pears 1/13/2003
12. Petit Dejeuner 1/13/2003
13. Prosody 101 1/13/2003
14. Self-Portrait 1/13/2003
15. Shadblow 1/13/2003
16. Something About The Trees 1/13/2003
17. The Cossacks 1/20/2003
18. The Happiest Day 1/13/2003
19. The Months 3/24/2015
20. The New Dog 1/13/2003
21. To A Daughter Leaving Home 1/13/2003
22. Traveling Light 2/28/2014
23. Vermilion 1/13/2003
24. Vertical 2/28/2014
25. What We Want 1/13/2003
26. Wind Chill 1/13/2003

Comments about Linda Pastan

  • tabil (2/17/2018 1:13:00 AM)

    i need the of linda pastan on lesson from nature

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  • Li Sharry Li Sharry (10/14/2017 1:23:00 AM)

    I like your poem very much! I would like to translate some of them into Chinese, could you please agree? Thank you. my emali:

  • Li Sharry Li Sharry (10/14/2017 1:15:00 AM)

    I really like your wonderful poems, That is really amazing!

  • M W (2/18/2014 5:19:00 AM)

    In the poem, ADAM AND EVE, ” BY LUCAS CRANACH THE elder 1526, what was the point in comparing Eve, bored of paradise, with a female teenager leaving a mall never to be seen? Is curiosity and a sense of adventure to be considered the mortal sin? And thus merits disappearance, death or worse abuse?

  • Akanksha Bhatt Akanksha Bhatt (10/2/2012)

    i really love your poems mam! especially To A Daughter Leaving Home. i just love it!

Best Poem of Linda Pastan

To A Daughter Leaving Home

When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving

Read the full of To A Daughter Leaving Home


Some say
it was a pear
Eve ate.
Why else the shape
of the womb,
or of the cello
Whose single song is grief
for the parent tree?
Why else the fruit itself
tawny and sweet
which your lover
over breakfast
lets go your pear-
shaped breast
to reach for?

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