Elizabeth Bishop

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

At The Fishhouses - Poem by Elizabeth Bishop

Although it is a cold evening,
down by one of the fishhouses
an old man sits netting,
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Comments about At The Fishhouses by Elizabeth Bishop

  • Edward Kofi Louis (3/25/2016 7:23:00 AM)

    Absolutely clear! Nice piece of work. (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Susan Williams (12/18/2015 2:06:00 PM)

    I have never ever read a more thoroughly faithful description that turned a smelly scene into such awesome discovery of tiny and large beauties. Incredible. Her soul is capable of living a beautiful life in the midst of sights and sounds and smells we would complain about. (Report) Reply

  • (12/18/2015 12:11:00 PM)

    how this supremely great and perfect poem got a 6.2 is unfathomable. (Report) Reply

  • Rajnish Manga (12/18/2015 11:23:00 AM)

    I loved its wonderful anecdotal imagery and the richness of narrative coupled with the sweetness of words composing an ethereal music. Great work. (Report) Reply

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (12/18/2015 10:39:00 AM)

    If you tasted it, it would first taste bitter,
    then briny, then surely burn your tongue.
    It is like what we imagine knowledge to be:
    dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free,
    drawn from the cold hard mouth
    of the world, derived from the rocky breasts
    forever, flowing and drawn, and since
    our knowledge is historical, flowing, and flown.
    (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (12/18/2015 3:19:00 AM)

    Nice piece of work. Amazing poem! Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Pranab K Chakraborty (12/18/2015 12:56:00 AM)

    ... as if the water were a transmutation of fire
    that feeds on stones and burns with a dark gray flame.
    If you tasted it, it would first taste bitter,
    then briny, then surely burn your tongue.......

    Magnificent with its fantastic catastrophe.
    (Report) Reply

  • Brian Jani (5/17/2014 2:49:00 PM)

    Nice one Elizabeth.I like (Report) Reply

  • (12/21/2012 6:08:00 AM)

    Amazing poem. It seems to me it's about reverence paid to the things of the world so attentively that the world is transformed or offers up the possibility of some sort of transcendence as symbolized by the ocean, a baptism in the essence of the world or its elemental foundation that in turn transforms us. See how the animal of the seal and the human are reconciled with the music? The water burns like the fires of purgatory, the water burns on the tongue like a harsh communion wafer, the world offers up only rock breasts from which to nurse, only a transcendence caught in time, but all of this is what we need and what sustains us and gives us hope. (Report) Reply

  • (12/21/2012 6:02:00 AM)

    Duh. Speechless. Pretty amazing poem, one of the best ever written by an American. WTF does it mean? She attends to the surfaces of the world with such reverence, and here hints at some sort of transcendence discovered as compensation for her dutifulness, like baptism in the ocean of experience that somehow goes beyond, a knowledge beyond the human but always right there, in the shimmering surface of things. Both transcendent and ephemeral, the circle squared momentarily. That's the best I can do now. (Report) Reply

User Rating:
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