I loved reading poetry when I was a teenager.The sadder and more tragic the better. Sara Teasdale was one of my favorites for her perspectives on love, beauty and death. Her knack for telling off men, longing for love had and missed captivated me. I always felt she was such a sad and tortured soul. I tried to imagine what type on man (or men) could stir in her such forlornness. For me, I think I always felt sorry for her, yet envious she had such talent to be able to put such feelings into words. Turns out, thanks to the internet, I was correct about her. Sadly, she committed suicied by taking sleeping pills at age 48. Although frail and ill, I do wish she would have known no man was worth it. You can read about her and find her works here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sara_Teasdale. I just downloaded my favorite collection" Love Songs" on my Ipad, to get myself reaquanted with her so I'll be posting more favorites from her in the future.
- I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April
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- Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
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- I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
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- When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
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- Than you are now.
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