Born on this day October 12, 1910, Robert Fitzgerald, a renowned poet, literary critic, and translator, has influenced the world of literature through his exquisite collections of poems and translations. His ability to weave words into exquisite tapestries of thought-provoking expressions and deeply evocative imagery has earned him a prominent place in the annals of literary history.
Fitzgerald’s abilities as a poet was evident in his remarkable collections. His poems are characterized by their intricate structure, rich linguistic texture, and profound thematic depth. They are a testament to his masterful command over language and his ability to express complex emotions and ideas with remarkable clarity and elegance. His collections such as In the Rose of Time and Spring Shade have been lauded for their lyrical beauty and intellectual profundity.
However, Fitzgerald’s contributions to literature extend beyond his role as a poet. As a literary critic, he offered insightful analyses of various literary works, demonstrating a keen understanding of diverse literary styles and themes. His critiques are widely respected for their depth of understanding, analytical rigor, and intellectual sophistication.
Fitzgerald was also an accomplished translator. He brought to life the works of ancient Greek poets like Homer and Sophocles for contemporary readers. His translations are celebrated for their fidelity to the original text and their ability to capture the subtleties and nuances of the original language. This skill made him one of the most respected translators of his time.
Robert Fitzgerald’s unforgettable works as a poet, literary critic, and translator have significantly enriched the world of literature. His poems, collections, translations, and critiques continue to inspire readers and writers alike with their aesthetic appeal, intellectual depth, and emotional resonance.
Night Images
Late in the cold night wakened, and heard wind,
And lay with eyes closed and silent, knowing
These words how bodiless they are, this darkness
Empty under my roof and the panes rattling
Roughed by wind. And so lay and imagined
Somewhere far off black seas heavy-shouldered
Plunging on sand and the ebb off-streaming and
Thunder forever. So lying bethought me, friend,
What traffic ghouls have, or this be legend,
In low inland hollows of the earth, under
Shade of moon, the night moaning, and bitter frost;
And feared the riches of my bones, long given
Into this earth, should tumble to their hands.
No girl or ghost beside me, and I lonely,
Remembering gardens, lilac scent, or twilight
Descending late in summer on that town,
I lay and found my years departed from me,
And feared the cold bed and the wind, absurdly
Alone with silence and the trick of tears.
-Robert Fitzgerald
Curated by Jennifer
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