İngilizce
St. Francis, Buddha, Tolstoi, and St. John — Friends, if you four, as pilgrims, hand in hand, Returned, the hate of earth once more to dare, And walked upon the water and the land,…
Nicholas Vachel Lindsay was born on November 10, 1879 in Springfield, Illinois. The second of six children and the only son of Dr. Vachel Thomas Lindsay and Esther Catharine Frazee Lindsay. Vachel did not attend school until he was eight. He was taught at home by his mother, who had been a teacher and artist before her marriage. Grimm’s Fairy Tales is said to have been his primer. He graduated from Stuart School in 1893, having skipped the seventh grade and winning several prizes for his writing compositions. During his youth, Vachel was encouraged to follow in his father’s footsteps, therefore as a dutiful son, he enrolled at Hiram College, as a premedical student in 1897. Three years later, he wrote home and asked his parents to allow him to attend art school. In 1901 he was accepted as a student at the Art Institute of Chicago and began his pursuit of a career as an illustrator. He spent time reading the works of English mystic poet William Blake and writing poetry in earnest. He moved in 1904 to continue his studies at the New York School of Art and, while there, began to combine poetry and art. After hearing Lindsay recite one of his illustrated poems, "The Tree of the Laughing Bells," Robert Henri, a painter and teacher at the New York School, suggested to Lindsay that he devote himself to poetry. It was a turning point in the poet’s life. The years 1906 through 1912 were Lindsay’s troubadour years as he took his poetry to the people. He ventured out into the world on walking tours of the countryside, taking no money with him, instead trading his poetry for food and shelter. In 1920, Lindsay became the first American poet invited to recite at Oxford University and undertook his first national lecturing tour. Nicholas Vachel Lindsay died in 1931, his funeral attended by hundreds. Cables expressing Lindsay’s popularity and people’s great sorrow at his death came from all over the nation.)
- Poetry
- The Poetry and Prose of Vachel Lindsay: Complete and With Lindsay’s Drawings (three volumes) (Spoon River Poetry Press, 1984–86)
- Adventures, Rhyme and Design: Early Writings (Eakins, 1968)
- Selected Poems of Vachel Lindsay (Macmillan, 1963)
- Every Soul Is a Circus (Macmillan, 1929)
- Johnny Appleseed and Other Poems for Children (Macmillan, 1928)
- The Candle in the Cabin: A Weaving Together of Script and Singing (D. Appleton & Company, 1926)
- Going-to-the-Stars (D. Appleton & Company, 1926)
- Collected Poems (Macmillan, 1923)
- Going-to-the-Sun (D. Appleton & Company, 1923)
- Springfield Town Is Butterfly Town and Other Poems for Children (Macmillan, 1922)
- The Golden Whales of California and Other Rhymes in the American Language (Macmillan, 1920)
- The Daniel Jazz and Other Poems (G. Bell, 1920)
- “The Chinese Nightingale” and Other Poems (Macmillan, 1917)
- “The Congo” and Other Poems (Macmillan, 1914)
- “General William Booth Enters into Heaven,” and Other Poems (M. Kennerly, 1913)
- Rhymes to Be Traded for Bread; Being New Verses by Nicholas Vachel Lindsay, Springfield, Illinois, June, 1912, Printed Expressly as a Substitute for Money. This Book Is To Be Used in Exchange for the Necessities of Life on a Tramp-Journey from the Author's Home Town through the West and Back (privately printed, 1912)
- The Village Magazine (Jefferson’s Printing Co., 1910)
- The Tree of the Laughing Bells (privately printed, 1905)
- Prose
- The Progress and Poetry of the Movies: A Second Book of Film Criticism (Scarecrow Press, 1995)
- Letters of Vachel Lindsay (B. Franklin, 1979)
- Letters of Nicholas Vachel Lindsay to A. Joseph Armstrong (Baylor Bulletin, 1940)
- The Litany of Washington Street (Macmillan, 1929)
- The Golden Book of Springfield (Macmillan, 1920)
- A Letter for Your Wicked Private Ear Only (privately printed, 1920)
- A Handy Guide for Beggars, Especially Those of the Poetic Fraternity (Macmillan, 1916)
- The Art of the Moving Picture (Macmillan, 1915)
- Adventures while Preaching the Gospel of Beauty (M. Kennerly, 1914)
Vachel Lindsay şiirleri
İngilizce
It is portentous, and a thing of state That here at midnight, in our little town A mourning figure walks, and will not rest, Near the old court-house pacing up and down.…
İngilizce
If you lay for Iago at the stage door with a brick You have missed the moral of the play. He will have a midnight supper with Othello and his wife. They will chirp together and be…
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A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black shame.…
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To be intoned, all but the two italicized lines, which are to be spoken in a snappy, matter-of-fact way. Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.…
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"Bring me soft song," said Aladdin. "This tailor-shop sings not at all. Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall.…
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I know a seraph who has golden eyes, And hair of gold, and body like the snow. Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair Is blowing round me, that desire's sweet glow…
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Sometimes I dip my pen and find the bottle full of fire, The salamanders flying forth I cannot but admire. It's Etna, or Vesuvius, if those big things were small, And then 'tis but…
1
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I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut bread, and dull as life in cells,…
İngilizce
[What the Man of Faith said] The dew, the rain and moonlight…
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(IN THE BEGINNING) The sun is a huntress young, The sun is a red, red joy,…
Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven? Are these your hands upon my wounded soul? Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me, Fly by my path till you have made me who…
I look on the specious electrical light Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white, Wickedly red or malignantly green Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen.…
İngilizce
No man should stand before the moon To make sweet song thereon, With dandified importance, His sense of humor gone.…
İngilizce
No doubt to-morrow I will hide My face from you, my King. Let me rejoice this Sunday noon, And kneel while gray priests sing.…
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