“Even flowers, to exhale their perfume, must die a little.”
Hasta las flores, para emanar sus perfumes, han menester morirse un poco.
Voces (1943)
“Even flowers, to exhale their perfume, must die a little.”
Hasta las flores, para emanar sus perfumes, han menester morirse un poco.
Voces (1943)
Essay 16: "Flirting with Success", p. 61
Naked Beneath My Clothes (1992)
(18th May 1822) Poetic Sketches. Second Series - Sketch the Third. Rosalie
25th May 1822) St. George’s Hospital, Hyde Park Corner see The Improvisatrice (1824
The London Literary Gazette, 1821-1822
Discourse 32, J. Cohoon and H. Crosby, trans. (1940), p. 181
"Reading Hsiao-ch'ing", in The Harpercollins World Reader: The Modern World, eds. Mary Ann Caws and Christopher Prendergast (HarperCollins Publishers, 1994), ISBN 978-0065013832, p. 1411
Hsiao-Ching was "a seventeenth-century poet who was forced to become a concubine to a man whose jealous primary wife burned almost all of her poems" — David Damrosch, "Global Scripts and the Formation of Literary Traditions", in Approaches to World Literature (2013), p. 98