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I never felt so much Since I have felt at all The tingling smell and touch Of dogrose and sweet briar, Nettles against the wall, All sours and sweets that grow Together or apart… —“A Birthday”, by poet, novelist & translator Edwin Muir (1887–1959), born #OTD, 15 May #poem #poetry 1/10

15/5/26, 12:25 pm6 reposts13 likes

Association for Scottish Literature

@asls.org.uk

15 May

“Edwin Muir (1887–1959) is a mysteriously neglected, gorgeous, & emotionally penetrating poet. Of all the many pieces of writing spurred by the Cold War & the threat of nuclear apocalypse… his poem ‘The Horses’ may be the most effective” — @rpinsky.bsky.social #poetry 2/10 slate.com/culture/1999...

slate.comThe HorsesTo hear Robert Pinsky read "The Horses," click here.

Association for Scottish Literature

@asls.org.uk

15 May

Barely a twelvemonth after The seven days war that put the world to sleep, Late in the evening the strange horses came. By then we had made our covenant with silence, But in the first few days it was so still We listened to our breathing and were afraid… —Edwin Muir, “The Horses” #poem #poetry 3/10

Association for Scottish Literature

@asls.org.uk

15 May

“On the second Friday of March 2020, before the first UK lockdown had begun… I was listening to the BBC news & boiling pasta for my children’s tea when a line of verse ran through my head” @jntod.bsky.social on Edwin Muir’s poem “The Horses” #poetry 4/10 someflowerssoon.substack.com/p/we-would-n...

someflowerssoon.substack.comWe would not have it againOn Edwin Muir's 'The Horses'

Association for Scottish Literature

@asls.org.uk

15 May

The houses stir and pluck their roofs and walls Apart as if in play and fling their stones Against the sky to make a common arc And fall again. The conflagrations raise Their mountainous precipices… —Edwin Muir, “The River” #poem #poetry 5/10