Anne Carson was born on June 21, 1950, in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. She is a renowned Canadian poet, and has received several awards for her poems. In high school she learned ancient Greek from her Latin teacher, fueling her interest in classical and Hellenic writing. Although she left St. Michael's College at the University of Toronto twice, she still earned a B.A., an M.A., and a Ph.D. from there. Her career as a poet first started when she wrote the poem "Kinds of Water." Since then, she has published many books of poetry and received numerous awards. In the span of 5 years, she received 6 awards and honors, including the Lannan Literary Award in 1996 and the T.S. Eliot Prize in 2001. Not much is known about Carson's personal life, which she keeps very private.
"And Reasons Remain Undaunted"
Searching for things sublime I walked up into the muddy windy big hills
behind the town where trees riot according to their own laws and
one may
observe so many methods of moving green—under, over, around, across,
up the back, higher, fanning, condensing, rifled, flat in the eyes, as if
pacing a
cell, like a litter of grand objects, minutely, absorbed, one leaf at a time,
ocean-furious, nettle-streaked, roping along, unmowed, fresh out of pools,
clear as Babel,
such a tower, scattered through the heart, green in the strong sense, dart-
shook, crownly, carrying the secrets of its own heightening on
up, juster than a shot, gloomier than Milton or even his king of terrors,
idol in its dark parts, as a word coined to mean “storm” (of love) or
“waving lines”
(architectural), scorned, clean, with blazing nostrils, not a servant, not
rapid, rapid.
"This"
Insatiable April, trees in place,
in their scraped-out place,
their standing.
Standing way.
Their red branch areas,
green shoot areas (shock),
river, that one.
I surprised a goose and she hissed.
I walk and walk with cold hands.
Back at the house it is filled with longing,
nothing to carry longing away.
I look back over my life.
I try to find analogies.
There are none.
I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.
Not like this.
It was not this.
Anne Carson
Lilly NguyenAnne Carson was born on June 21, 1950, in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. She is a renowned Canadian poet, and has received several awards for her poems. In high school she learned ancient Greek from her Latin teacher, fueling her interest in classical and Hellenic writing. Although she left St. Michael's College at the University of Toronto twice, she still earned a B.A., an M.A., and a Ph.D. from there. Her career as a poet first started when she wrote the poem "Kinds of Water." Since then, she has published many books of poetry and received numerous awards. In the span of 5 years, she received 6 awards and honors, including the Lannan Literary Award in 1996 and the T.S. Eliot Prize in 2001. Not much is known about Carson's personal life, which she keeps very private.
"And Reasons Remain Undaunted"
Searching for things sublime I walked up into the muddy windy big hills
behind the town where trees riot according to their own laws and
one may
observe so many methods of moving green—under, over, around, across,
up the back, higher, fanning, condensing, rifled, flat in the eyes, as if
pacing a
cell, like a litter of grand objects, minutely, absorbed, one leaf at a time,
ocean-furious, nettle-streaked, roping along, unmowed, fresh out of pools,
clear as Babel,
such a tower, scattered through the heart, green in the strong sense, dart-
shook, crownly, carrying the secrets of its own heightening on
up, juster than a shot, gloomier than Milton or even his king of terrors,
idol in its dark parts, as a word coined to mean “storm” (of love) or
“waving lines”
(architectural), scorned, clean, with blazing nostrils, not a servant, not
rapid, rapid.
"This"
Insatiable April, trees in place,
in their scraped-out place,
their standing.
Standing way.
Their red branch areas,
green shoot areas (shock),
river, that one.
I surprised a goose and she hissed.
I walk and walk with cold hands.
Back at the house it is filled with longing,
nothing to carry longing away.
I look back over my life.
I try to find analogies.
There are none.
I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.
Not like this.
It was not this.
Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.