Un racconto incantato e anarchico, in cui ippopotami attraversano le strade e giovanotti in camicia spariscono fra le onde del mare e le spire di fumo delle loro pipe. Età di lettura: da 7 anni.
- ISBN: 8877829273
- Casa Editrice: Salani
- Pagine: 48
- Data di uscita: 03-11-2000
My artistic, flighty mother, who's in her 70's, flits in and out of my life, leaving quirky gifts behind. Sometimes they go straight to Goodwill (used clothing, cheap knickknacks); sometimes they're useful (a type of mop she particularly loves); sometimes they're delightful (my grandmother's sterlin Leggi tutto
I completely forgot to review this little book, my husband has read it out loud for the whole family during Christmas Eve, The poor one has been interrupted hundreds of times because the English used by Thomas was not very easy to understand for us, many words now in disuse., so he had to translate
“One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed Leggi tutto
I need more Dylan Thomas in my life! I was unaware of this fact until today, having never read his stuff before aside from "Do not go gentle into that good night" some 30 or so years ago. I don't usually go in for poetry, but I loved his cadence and imagery. Beautiful stuff! "A Child's Christmas in Wa Leggi tutto
I picked this as an accessible introduction to Dylan's work. A delicate prose poem that proceeds liltingly until the child and the adult versions collides head on, subtly, magnificently bringing about the conclusion.
I realize, now, that Dylan Thomas has been trying to capture my attention for 41 years. Sorry it took so long. I'm here now. Let's proceed.
All the Christmases roll toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. How did I, a huge fan of Christmas and cel Leggi tutto
”All the Christmases roll down towards the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that wool-whi Leggi tutto
I read this over at https://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems... and also treated myself to a listen over on You Tube of Thomas reading this himself. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Hoxy... I normally hate being read to but it is impossible to hate this beautifully vibrating voice breathing even more l Leggi tutto
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