30 Minutes Of Poetry With Tom Hiddleston Ximalaya FM Compilation 12 Poems by Zsuzsa published on 2019-10-11T17:58:54Z For more visit my channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9BtQAL2-ulaENzb42Y9F1A "This is Tom Hiddleston – recording poetry for you on Ximalaya. For thousand of years men and women have tried to condense the experience of being alive into words designed to be read, sung and listened to. This form of profound expression is commonly referred to as poetry. A poem may mean many different things to many different people. Each individual’s interpretation will depend upon their frame of mind and their experience - how the words make them think or feel. It is timeless, but also of its time and place. Poetry has spanned centuries to inspire and delight, to connect people across time and space, in a shared understanding of the same truths. Today for Ximalaya FM this is Tom Hiddleston with a selection of 12 poems – by English, American, Scottish, Welsh and Chilean poets. Some are short, some are long, some are written to rhyme, others not, some were penned more than 100 years apart, but each touches on universal themes in life." 0:01:45 "The Mower" by Philip Larkin 0:03:10 "I Am!" by John Clare 0:05:15 "Strawberries" by Edwin Morgan 0:06:54 "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver 0:08:34 "And the days are not full enough" by Ezra Pound 0:09:44 "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley 0:11:09 "Clenched Soul" by Pablo Neruda 0:12:49 "Words, Wide Night" by Carol Ann Duffy 0:14:14 "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost 0:15:49 "Diving into the Wreck" by Adrienne Rich 0:20:04 "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot 0:29:30 "Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night" by Dylan Thomas Genre Poetry Comment by Hinderella I stroke the beam of my lamp slowly along the flank of something more permanent than fish or weed 2019-11-28T18:51:17Z Comment by Hinderella I came to explore the wreck. The words are purposes. The words are maps. I came to see the damage that was done and the treasures that prevail. 2019-11-28T18:50:25Z Comment by Hinderella swaying their crenellated fans between the reefs and besides you breathe differently down here. 2019-11-28T18:49:46Z Comment by Hinderella And now: it is easy to forget what I came for among so many who have always lived here 2019-11-28T18:49:11Z Comment by Hinderella I have to learn alone to turn my body without force in the deep element. 2019-11-28T18:48:31Z Comment by Hinderella the sea is another story the sea is not a question of power 2019-11-28T18:47:58Z Comment by Hinderella and yet my mask is powerful it pumps my blood with power 2019-11-28T18:47:13Z Comment by Hinderella First the air is blue and then it is bluer and then green and then black I am blacking out 2019-11-28T18:46:51Z Comment by Hinderella I go down. My flippers cripple me, I crawl like an insect down the ladder and there is no one to tell me when the ocean will begin. 2019-11-28T18:45:36Z Comment by Hinderella I go down. Rung after rung and still the oxygen immerses me the blue light the clear atoms of our human air. 2019-11-28T18:45:02Z Comment by Hinderella We know what it is for, we who have used it. Otherwise it's a piece of maritime floss some sundry equipment. 2019-11-28T18:44:16Z Comment by Hinderella There is a ladder. The ladder is always there hanging innocently close to the side of the schooner. 2019-11-28T18:43:48Z Comment by Hinderella but here alone. 2019-11-28T18:43:05Z Comment by Hinderella I am having to do this not like Cousteau with his assiduous team aboard the sun-flooded schooner 2019-11-28T18:42:36Z Comment by Hinderella I put on the body-armor of black rubber the absurd flippers the grave and awkward mask. 2019-11-28T18:42:06Z Comment by Hinderella First having read the book of myths, and loaded the camera, and checked the edge of the knife-blade, 2019-11-28T18:41:22Z Comment by Hinderella I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. 2019-11-28T18:37:16Z Comment by Hinderella And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. 2019-11-28T18:36:06Z Comment by Hinderella Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, 2019-11-28T18:35:53Z Comment by Hinderella Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; 2019-11-28T18:34:58Z Comment by Hinderella and this is what it is like or what it is like in words. 2019-11-28T18:30:26Z Comment by Hinderella For I am in love with you ❤ 2019-11-28T18:29:18Z Comment by Hinderella La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross to reach you. 2019-11-28T18:28:56Z Comment by Hinderella In one of the tenses I singing an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear. 2019-11-28T18:27:54Z Comment by Hinderella This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say it is sad? 2019-11-28T18:27:05Z Comment by Hinderella The room is turning slowly away from the moon. 2019-11-28T18:26:44Z Comment by Hinderella Somewhere on the other side of this wide night and the distance between us, I am thinking of you. 2019-11-28T18:26:27Z Comment by Hinderella Always, always you recede through the evenings toward the twilight erasing statues. 2019-11-28T17:40:16Z Comment by Hinderella The book fell that always closed at twilight and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet. 2019-11-28T17:39:58Z Comment by Hinderella Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away? 2019-11-28T17:39:35Z