Best Remembered Poems by Martin Gardner

De la poesía inglesa conocía lo que debía conocer: poco.
"El Cuervo" de Poe, durante mi adolescencia; y posteriormente algunos versos de Whiltman. Después, nada.
En una de tantas "sale books" en el área de Washington DC, cayó en mis manos este libro, al módico precio de 50 centavos (dos coras, pues)pero con un alto valor: una exploración general de las grandes plumas de lengua inglesa en los siglos XVIII, XIX y XX.
Reescribo los poemas que más me impactaron: 

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
but only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

Out where the West Begins

Out where the handclasp's a little stronger,

Out where the smile dwells a little longer,

That's where the West begins;

Out where the sun is a little brighter,

Where the snows that fall are a trifle whiter,

Where the bonds of home are a wee a bit tighter,

That's where the West begins.

Out where the skies are a trifle bluer,

Out where friendships's a little truer,

That's where the West begins;

Out where a fresher breeze is blowing,

Where there's laughter in every streamlet flowing,

Where there's more of reaping and less of sowing,

That's where the West begins.

Out where the world is in the making,

Where fewer hearts in despair are aching,

That's where the West begins;

Where there's more of singing and less of sighing,

where there's more of giving and less of buying,

And a man makes friends without half trying -

That's where the West begins.

Arthur Chapman (1873-1935)

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