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Poem of the Month |
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Poem for May 2009
• "May" by Sara Teasdale 1884-1933
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Saturday,
30 May, 2009
May
"The wind is tossing the lilacs,
The new leaves laugh in the sun,
And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.
Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled in April
Is false to me in May."
Sara Teasdale 1884-1933
We found this charming poem on the Poemhunter website.
Extracted biography from Poemhunter website
Sara Trevor Teasdale was born on August 8, 1884 in St. Louis Missouri. She was the youngest child of Mary Elizabeth Willard and John Warren Teasdale.
Sara was named after her grandmother. Teasdale's first word was "pretty". According to her mother, Sara's love of pretty things was what inspired her poetry.
Teasdale was always very frail, and caught diseases easily. For most of her life, she had a nurse companion that took care of her. Teasdale grew up in a sheltered atmosphere. Because she was so sickly, she was homeschooled until she was nine and waited on like a princess. She was known to have described herself as "a flower in a toiling world". As a result Teasdale grew up around adultsand was forced to amuse herself with stories and things that she made up in her own solitary world.
Teasdale had a rather tragic life in some ways although there was so recognition of her poertry while she was still alive. Teasdale's first published poem was "Reedy's Mirror", and it was published in a local newspaper. Her first collection, "Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems", was published in 1907. In 1911, her second collection, "Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems" was published. She published many other collections including "Rivers to the Sea", "Love Songs", "Flame and Shadow", "Dark of the Moon", "Stars To-night", and finally, "Strange Victory".
Teasdale married her sweetheart Ernst Filsinger in 1914. They had a happy marriage, but it was too good to last. They divorced in 1929, and lived the rest of her life only for her poetry. Sara was always frail and sickly, but in 1933, Teasdale caught chronic pneumonia and it weakened her not only in body but also in mind and spirit. No longer able to see the beauty in simple things, Teasdale committed suicide at age 48 in New York, NY on January 29, 1933. Her final book of poetry was published that year.
Teasdale's works continue to be admired by poets everywhere. her works show us what a lovely person she was, and how much she appreciated the beautiful things about life. She was a very talented poet, and we are glad she shared her talent with us.
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