“The woman is perfected
Her dead

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare

Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little

Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded

Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden

Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.”

"Edge" http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/edge.html
Ariel (1965)

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update Nov. 10, 2022. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "The woman is perfected Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows…" by Sylvia Plath?
Sylvia Plath photo
Sylvia Plath 342
American poet, novelist and short story writer 1932–1963

Related quotes

Barbara Kingsolver photo
Jennifer Donnelly photo
Henri Barbusse photo
Edmund Waller photo

“Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.”

Edmund Waller (1606–1687) English poet and politician

Go, Lovely Rose (1664), st. 1.
Poetical Works of Edmund Waller and Sir John Denham (1857)

Sylvia Plath photo
John Fante photo
Charles Baudelaire photo

“A man who from the beginning has long been soaked in the languid atmosphere of a woman, the scent of her hands, her bosom, her knees, her hair, her lithe and flowing clothes,Sweet bath, suavely
Scented with ointments,has acquired a delicacy of skin, a refinement of tone, a kind of androgyny without which the toughest and most virile of geniuses remains, when it comes to artistic perfection, an incomplete being.”

<p>L’homme qui, dès le commencement, a été longtemps baigné dans la molle atmosphère de la femme, dans l’odeur de ses mains, de son sein, de ses genoux, de sa chevelure, de ses vêtements souples et flottants,</p><p>Dulce balneum suavibus
Unguentatum odoribus,</p><p>y a contracté une délicatesse d’épiderme et une distinction d’accent, une espèce d’androgynéité, sans lesquelles le génie le plus âpre et le plus viril reste, relativement à la perfection dans l’art, un être incomplet.</p>
"Un mangeur d'opium," VII: Chagrins d'enfance http://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Paradis_artificiels_-_II#VII_CHAGRINS_D.E2.80.99ENFANCE
Les paradis artificiels (1860)

Related topics