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Informationen zum Autor JOHN HOLLANDER is the author of more than a dozen books of poetry. His first, A Crackling of Thorns , was chosen by W. H. Auden as the 1958 volume in the Yale Series of Younger Poets. He wrote eight books of criticism, including the award-winning Rhyme’s Reason: A Guide to English Verse and The Work of Poetry, and edited or coedited twenty-two collections, among them The Oxford Anthology of English Literature, American Poetry: The Nineteenth Century, and (with Anthony Hecht, with whom he shared the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1983) Jiggery-Pokery: A Compendium of Double Dactyls. Mr. Hollander attended Columbia and Indiana Universities and was a Junior Fellow of the Society of Fellows of Harvard University. He taught at Connecticut College and Yale, and was a professor of English at Hunter College and the Graduate Center, CUNY. In 1990 he received a MacArthur Fellowship. He died in August 2013. Klappentext From Homer and Virgil to Byron and Yeats, from Shelley and Whitman to Auden and Stevens, from ancient China's anonymous bards to Poland's Mickiewicz and Israel's Amichai, poets of all times, places, and sensibilities have been moved to write about war. Here are more than one hundred of their most memorable poems, ranging from Horace on the Battle of Actium to Adrienne Rich's Vietnam-era "Newsreel." An extraordinary anthology."The Man He Killed" by Thomas Hardy “Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have sat us down to wet Right many a nipperkin! “But ranged as infantry, And staring face to face, I shot at him as he at me, And killed him in his place. “I shot him dead because — Because he was my foe, Just so: my foe of course he was; That’s clear enough; although “He thought he’d ‘list, perhaps, Off-hand like — just as I — Was out of work — had sold his traps — No other reason why. “Yes; quaint and curious war is! You shoot a fellow down You’d treat if met where any bar is, Or help to half-a-crown.” "War Is Kind" by Stephen Crane Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky And the affrighted steed ran on alone, Do not weep. War is kind. Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, Little souls who thirst for fight, These men were born to drill and die. The unexplained glory flies above them, Great is the Battle-God, great, and his Kingdom-- A field where a thousand corpses lie. Do not weep, babe, for war is kind. Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches, Raged at his breast, gulped and died, Do not weep. War is kind. Swift blazing flag of the regiment, Eagle with crest of red and gold, These men were born to drill and die. Point for them the virtue of slaughter, Make plain to them the excellence of killing And a field where a thousand corpses lie. Mother whose heart hung humble as a button On the bright splendid shroud of your son, Do not weep. War is kind. Zusammenfassung From Homer and Virgil to Byron and Yeats! from Shelley and Whitman to Auden and Stevens! from ancient China's anonymous bards to Poland's Mickiewicz and Israel's Amichai! poets of all times! places! and sensibilities have been moved to write about war. Here are more than one hundred of their most memorable poems! ranging from Horace on the Battle of Actium to Adrienne Rich's Vietnam-era "Newsreel." An extraordinary anthology. ...
