what is the meaning of this poem--The Sun Rising?
87409
that the sun gived up
808179
First, ARISE. The situation may arise where we have no other choice.   Second, RISE. We will rise to the occasion.  Third, RISES. The sun rises at 6 am.  Fourth, ARISES. If the situation arises, we will deal with it. It's difficult!   Try further or farther.
231805
the poem is very good!!!
1162696
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, \nWith conquering limbs astride from land to land; \nHere at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand \nA mighty woman with a torch, whose flame \nIs the imprisoned lightning, and her name \nMother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand \nGlows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command \nThe air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. \n"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she \nWith silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, \nYour huddled masses yearning to breathe free, \nThe wretched refuse of your teeming shore. \nSend these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, \nI lift my lamp beside the golden door
234535
It is called In and Out of TIme.  Here it is:\n\nThe sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance...\nour long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out of time.\nWhen the first stone looked up at the blazing sun\nand the first tree struggled up from the forest floor\nI had always loved you more.\nYou freed your braids...\ngave your hair to the breeze.\nIt hummed like a hive of honey bees.\nI reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....\nGod...how I love your hair.\nYou saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.\nLost, injured, hurt by chance.\nI screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....\nTrying to change our nightmares to dreams...\nThe sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance our long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out\nin and out\nin and out\nof time.
48959
A Sunset\n\nYour love is like a sunset,\nwild, bright and true.\nThe colours blend together,\nforming a magical hue.\nThe day's warm caress\nis slipping through the air,\njust as though your fingers\nwould be slipping through my hair.\n\nI sit and watch the sunset,\nknowing it soon will end,\nthinking of you and\nwaiting 'til we will be together again.\nSlowly now it's going,\ncoming to a end.\nDarkness may be closing in,\nbut the fun has just begun.\n\nFor now I can go home,\ngo to my darkened room,\nlie on the bed and\nclose my eyes,\nfall asleep and dream of you.\n\nsome of my best poems happen when I watch a sunset
1084321
It means, "It seemed as if everything was going better, but then it all went wrong again- it was as though a big storm had blown up even though the sun was shining" \n\nHope this helps
519649
There are many translations due to it's poetic nature. Here are a few:\n\n * Kavikratu Tattva Budh:\n\n    "Almighty Supreme Sun impel us with your divine brilliance so we may attain a noble understanding of reality."\n\n * Gayatri Pariwar:\n\n    "O God, Thou art the giver of life, the remover of pain and sorrow, the bestower of happiness; O Creator of the Universe, may we receive Thy supreme, sin destroying light; may Thou guide our intellect in the right direction."\n\n * William Q. Judge:\n\n    "Unveil, O Thou who givest sustenance to the Universe, from whom all proceed, to whom all must return, that face of the True Sun now hidden by a vase of golden light, that we may see the truth and do our whole duty on our journey to thy sacred seat."\n\n\n    "Oh matter-energy-mind (triple universe); Upon this worthy source of divine spiritual light, meditate: thus enlighten our intellect."
816958
Well, the biggest piece of irony in the whole poem is the last line!  The writer spends the entire poem talking about unlikely disasters which cause him/her great anxiety while outside the bunker the sun is shining!  Question being raised here is, do you want to spend your life hiding and worrying about things that may never happen, or would you rather be outside enjoying today in the sun?
678286
One of the main ways the poem speaks' (the Diction?) is through the rhythm. It is slow and unhurried like the footsteps of the people carrying Sir John and like the drum beat at a funeral.  Otherwise there isn't a lot of imagery.  There is the 'struggling moonlight' perhaps an image of their own struggle in Battle.  The words are all short and clear, like a soldiers, and like his own funeral with no pomp though he was a hero.
235374
Here they are:\n\nThe sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance...\nour long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out of time.\nWhen the first stone looked up at the blazing sun\nand the first tree struggled up from the forest floor\nI had always loved you more.\nYou freed your braids...\ngave your hair to the breeze.\nIt hummed like a hive of honey bees.\nI reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....\nGod...how I love your hair.\nYou saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.\nLost, injured, hurt by chance.\nI screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....\nTrying to change our nightmares to dreams...\nThe sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance our long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out\nin and out\nin and out\nof time.
174660
The sun will rise from west.
498704
From fairest creatures we desire increase,\nThat thereby beauty's rose might never die,\nBut as the riper should by time decease,\nHis tender heir might bear his memory:\nBut thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,\nFeed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,\nMaking a famine where abundance lies,\nThy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:\nThou that art now the world's fresh ornament,\nAnd only herald to the gaudy spring,\nWithin thine own bud buriest thy content,\nAnd, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:\nPity the world, or else this glutton be,\nTo eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.\n\n\nQuestionable it may be,\nat least be thankful\nyou don't read the poet from Dundee!\n\n\nBeautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!\nAlas! I am very sorry to say\nThat ninety lives have been taken away\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\n'Twas about seven o'clock at night,\nAnd the wind it blew with all its might,\nAnd the rain came pouring down,\nAnd the dark clods seem'd to frown,\nAnd the Demon of the air seem'd to say-\n"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."\n\nWhen the train left Edinburgh\nThe passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,\nBut Boreas blew a terrific gale,\nWhich made their hearts for to quail,\nAnd many of the passengers with fear did say-\n"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."\n\nBut when the train came near to Wormit Bay,\nBoreas he did loud and angry bray,\nAnd shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nSo the train sped on with all its might,\nAnd Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sught,\nAnd the passengers' hearts felt light,\nThinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,\nWith their friends at home they lov'd most dear,\nAnd wish them all a happy New Year.\n\nSo the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,\nUntil it was about midway,\nThen the central girders with a crash gave way,\nAnd down went the train and passengers into the Tay!\nThe Storm Fiend did loudly bray,\nBecause ninety lives had been taken away,\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nAs soon as the catastrophe came to be known\nThe alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,\nAnd the cry rang out all o'er the town,\nGood Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,\nAnd a passenger train from Edinburgh,\nWhich fill'd all the peoples hearts with sorrow,\nAnd made them for to turn pale,\nBecause none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale\nHow the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nIt must have been an awful sight,\nTo witness in the dusky moonlight,\nWhile the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,\nAlong the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,\nOh! ill-fated Bridge of thSilv'ry Tay,\nI must now conclude my lay\nBy telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,\nThat your central girders would not have given way,\nAt least many sensible men do say,\nHad they been supported on each side with buttresses,\nAt least many sensible men confesses,\nFor the stronger we our houses do build,\nThe less chance we have of being killed.\n\n\nEnjoy!
235020
I could be wrong but I think "The bridal of the earth and sky" talks of how the two seperate things (the earth and the sky) are forever connected but every night must seemingly "part" but "... the rash gazer..." is someone who just glances at the night sky and thinks that means that the marriage has ended or that the rose is angry or brave because of it's color.--- Trying to say "don't judge a book by a quick glance at it's cover". \n\nBut again I could be totally wrong. I've never seen or heard this poem before!
214069
No, you are not the only one. Owen's poems are poignant and moving.There's an Owen homepage with all of his poems. I can give you one here:\nFUTILITY\nMove him into the sun -\nGently its touch awoke him once,\nAt home, whispering of fields unsown.\nAlways it woke him, even in France,\nUntil this morning and this snow.\nIf anything might rouse him now\nThe kind old sun will know.\n\n\nThink how it wakes the seeds, -\nWoke, once, the clays of a cold star.\nAre limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,\nFull-nerved, - still warm, - too hard to stir?\nWas it for this the clay grew tall?\n- O what made fatuous sunbeams toil\nTo break earth's sleep at all?\n\nAbsurdly, Owen died only a very few days before the end of WW I.
650330
Yes: the sun will rise...
359349
Incidentally, the word is BLISS, not BLESS. Here's the whole poem:\n\n"Virtue, how frail it is!\nFriendship, too rare!\nLove, how it sells poor bliss\nFor proud despair!\nBut we, though soon they fall,\nSurvive their joy, and all\nWhich ours we call."\n\n\nThe lines in question seem to mean that love often begins with bliss and ends in despair. Love "sells" bliss by exchanging it for despair when love is gone. Good question.