The Collected Poems

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This comprehensive volume contains all Sylvia Plath's mature poetry written from 1956 up to her death in 1963. The poems are drawn from the only collection Plath published while alive, The Colossus, as well as from posthumous collections Ariel, Crossing the Water and Winter Trees. The text is preceded by an introduction by Ted Hughes and followed by notes and comments on individual poems. There is also an appendix containing fifty poems from Sylvia Plath's juvenilia. This collection was awarded the 1981 Pulitzer Prize for ...

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Tee

Jul 6, 2016

a dense collection of poetry from Plath, the copied I received categorized each poem by year.

Daniel G

Apr 28, 2015

It's so sad that Sylvia Plath is no longer with us

Wonderful book of all her Poems...Don't miss it!....If Poetry is your thing...then Plath must be added to your library.

sistina

May 21, 2009

Timeless Expressions.

Sylvia Plath remains a forceful voice speaking to the heart. Her works are as fresh as they were decades ago. I first read her poems more than ten years ago as a college student and I was touched by the sincerity and emotive quality of her verse. I am still touched by her words today.

cathiesblogg

Oct 19, 2007

Beautiful and unusual poetry

Sylvia Plath's poetry is so unique. It is so very deep but hauntingly true in so many different ways. Sylvia died on February 11, 1963 by her own hands but left her very sensitive thoughts through her poetry. This book contains 224 poems that she wrote after 1956 together with a further 50 poems that were chosen from her pre-1956 work.
an example
Mirror
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it is so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
October 23, 1961

BettyR

Sep 9, 2007

Bewitching.........

The autobiographical nature of her poetry makes it hard to readThe Collected Poems without thinking about the tragic end of her life. But it is in her poetry that we can find her essence and the triumph of her words - the words she feared were " dry and riderless " live on to haunt us and enchant us. This volume makes a lovely addition to any poetry collection -with so many poems that deserve to be read aloud.

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