Sylvia Plath

(October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963 / Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts)

Sylvia Plath Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
121. Mystic 1/3/2003
122. Natural History 9/19/2014
123. Never Try To Trick Me With A Kiss 1/3/2003
124. New Year On Dartmoor 9/19/2014
125. Nick And The Candlestick 1/3/2003
126. Night Shift 1/13/2003
127. Notes To A Neophyte 9/19/2014
128. Ode For Ted 9/19/2014
129. On Deck 9/19/2014
130. On Looking Into The Eyes Of A Demon Lover 1/13/2003
131. On The Difficulty Of Conjuring Up A Dryad 9/19/2014
132. Ouija 9/19/2014
133. Owl 9/19/2014
134. Paralytic 1/3/2003
135. Parliament Hill Fields 9/19/2014
136. Perseus 1/3/2003
137. Pheasant 9/17/2014
138. Poems, Potatoes 1/3/2003
139. Point Shirley 9/19/2014
140. Polly's Tree 1/3/2003
141. Poppies In July 1/1/2004
142. Poppies In October 1/3/2003
143. Private Ground 9/19/2014
144. Prologue To Spring 9/19/2014
145. Prospect 1/3/2003
146. Purdah 1/3/2003
147. Pursuit 1/3/2003
148. Recantation 9/19/2014
149. Resolve 1/3/2003
150. Rhyme 9/17/2014
151. Sculptor 1/3/2003
152. Sheep In Fog 1/3/2003
153. Sleep In The Mojave Desert 1/3/2003
154. Sleepers 1/3/2003
155. Snakecharmer 1/3/2003
156. Soliloquy Of The Solipsist 9/17/2014
157. Song For A Summer's Day 9/19/2014
158. Sonnet : To Eva 9/17/2014
159. Southern Sunrise 1/3/2003
160. Sow 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Sylvia Plath

Cinderella

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels
Begin on tilted violins to span

The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall
Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,

And glided couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince

As amid the hectic music and cocktail ...

Read the full of Cinderella

Perseus

The Triumph of Wit Over Suffering

Head alone shows you in the prodigious act
Of digesting what centuries alone digest:
The mammoth, lumbering statuary of sorrow,
Indissoluble enough to riddle the guts
Of a whale with holes and holes, and bleed him white
Into salt seas. Hercules had a simple time,
Rinsing those stables: a baby's tears would do it.

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