Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, 
 plunges headlong into that black pond 
where, absurd and out-of-season, a single swan 
 floats chaste as snow, taunting the clouded mind 
which hungers to haul the white reflection down. 

The austere sun descends above the fen, 
 an orange cyclops-eye, scorning to look 
longer on this landscape of chagrin; 
 feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook, 
brooding as the winter night comes on. 

Last summer's reeds are all engraved in ice 
 as is your image in my eye; dry frost 
glazes the window of my hurt; what solace 
 can be struck from rock to make heart's waste 
grow green again? Who'd walk in this bleak place? 

 
L'eau dans le millrace, par une écluse de pierre, plonge la tête la 
première dans cet étang noir où, absurde et dehors-de-saison, un 
cygne simple flotte chaste comme neige, taunting l'esprit opacifié 
qui est affamé de transporter la réflexion blanche vers le bas. 

Le soleil austère descend au-dessus du marais, un cyclope-oeil 
orange, dédaignant pour regarder plus longtemps sur ce paysage de 
contrariété; obscurité faite varier le pas dans la pensée, 
j'égrappe comme un freux, couvant pendant que la nuit d'hiver avance. 

Les roseaux tous de l'été passé sont gravés en glace de même que 
votre image dans mon oeil; le gel sec glace la fenêtre de mon mal; 
quelle consolation peut être frappée de la roche pour faire la perte 
du coeur se développer verte encore ? Promenade de Who'd dans cet 
endroit morne ? 

 
Wasser im millrace, durch eine Schleuse des Steins, taucht headlong in 
diesen schwarzen Teich, in dem, absurd und Heraus-vonjahreszeit, ein 
einzelner Schwan tugendhaftes als Schnee schwimmt, höhnisch der 
bewölkte Verstand, der hungert, um die weiße Reflexion unten zu 
schleppen. 

Die strenge Sonne steigt über dem Fenn, ein orange Zyklop-Auge ab und 
verachtet, um auf dieser Landschaft des Verdrusses länger zu schauen; 
mit Federn versehene Dunkelheit im Gedanken, pirsche mich ich wie ein 
Saatkrähe an und brüte, während die Winternacht angeht. 

Des letzten Sommers alle Schilfe werden im Eis graviert, wie Ihr Bild 
in meinem Auge; trockener Frost glasiert das Fenster meines Hurt; 
welcher Trost kann vom Felsen angeschlagen werden, um 
Vergeudung des Herzens grün wieder wachsen zu lassen? Who'd Weg in 
diesem kahlen Platz? 

 
A água no millrace, através de um sluice da pedra, mergulha headlong 
nessa lagoa preta onde, absurd e para fora-$$$-ESTAÇÃO, uma única 
cisne flutua chaste como a neve, taunting a mente clouded que deseja 
para transportar para baixo a reflexão branca. 

O sol austere desce acima do fen, um cyclops-olho alaranjado, scorning 
para olhar mais por muito tempo nesta paisagem do chagrin; obscuridade 
feathered no pensamento, eu stalk como um rook, chocando enquanto a 
noite do inverno se aproxima. 

As lingüetas todas do último verão são gravadas no gelo como é 
sua imagem em meu olho; a geada seca vitrifica a janela de meu hurt; 
que solace pode ser golpeado da rocha para fazer o desperdício do 
coração crescer outra vez verde? Caminhada de Who'd neste lugar 
bleak? 

 
El agua en el millrace, a través de una esclusa de la piedra, hunde 
headlong en esa charca negra en donde, absurdo y hacia 
fuera-de-estacio'n, un solo cisne flota casto como nieve, taunting la 
mente nublada que tiene hambre para acarrear la reflexión blanca 
abajo. 

El sol austero desciende sobre el pantano, un cyclops-ojo anaranjado, 
despreciando para mirar más de largo en este paisaje del chagrin; 
obscuridad emplumada en pensamiento, acecho como un estafador, 
empollando mientras que se adelanta la noche del invierno. 

Las cañas todas del verano pasado se graban en hielo al igual que su 
imagen en mi ojo; la helada seca esmalta la ventana de mi daño; ¿qué 
consuelo se puede pulsar de roca para hacer que la basura del 
corazón crece verde otra vez? ¿Caminata de Who'd en este lugar 
triste? 

(These are public search results on the terms: 'Sylvia Plath: Winter Landscape, With Rooks poem')

• <b>Sylvia Plath</b>: <b>Poems</b> | circle, uncoiled by katflei (2013/05/05 15:47)

  Nature plays a seemingly paradoxical role in the poetry of Sylvia Plath, as the locus of both the static, alienating landscape and the magnetic, transformative life cycle. The frustrating, ongoing mental estrangement from Nature that characterizes much of ... In 'A Winter Landscape with Rooks', the speaker sees the sun gives a 'scorning' glance at the 'landscape of chagrin', 'all engraved in ice'.[3] Plath herself termed the poem a 'psychic landscape', representative of her ...
• Climbing <b>Poem</b> by <b>Sylvia Plath</b> - Artvilla by admin (2013/01/18 10:17)

  A rise in the landscape, hummock or hogback, looks / To be meant for climbing. A peculiar logic / In going up for the coming down if the post / We start at's the same post we finish by, / But it's the clear conversion at the top can ...
• <b>Poem</b> of the day – <b>Winter Landscape, With Rooks</b> by <b>Sylvia Plath</b> <b>...</b> by Frédérick (2012/12/29 22:20)

  Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, plunges headlong into that black pond where, absurd and out-of-season, a single swan floats chaste as snow, taunting the clouded mind which hungers to haul the white ...
• <b>Winter</b> Trees <b>Poem</b> by <b>Sylvia Plath</b> - Art Villa by admin (2012/11/16 13:56)

  The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve. / On their blotter of fog the trees / Seem a botanical drawing. / Memories growing, ring on ring, / A series of weddings. / Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery, / Truer than ...
• The Babysitters <b>Poem</b> by <b>Sylvia Plath</b> - Art Villa by admin (2012/07/28 14:36)

  It is ten years, now, since we rowed to Children's Island. / The sun flamed straight down that noon on the water off Marblehead. / That summer we wore black glasses to hide our eyes. / We were always crying, in our spare ...
• Some <b>Winter poems</b> by <b>Sylvia Plath</b> | Eclogue by guineverelynn (2012/02/11 05:35)

  In memory of Sylvia, I have included here some of her winter poems interspersed with photos of Sylvia in happier, “sunnier” times. Winter Landscape, with Rooks Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, plunges ...
• Librarian Laura&#39;s Book Reviews: M4 Your Own, <b>Sylvia</b> (A LS5663 <b>...</b> by Laura J (2011/03/24 18:25)

  Underneath the title of these poems, Hemphill indicates which of Plath's poems is mimicked. “Paris in the Winter” Imagining Sylvia Plath In the style of “Winter Landscape, with Rooks” Winter 1956 "She repeats his name like a ...
• the continuous <b>poem</b>: Six Reasons for Reading <b>Poetry</b> in <b>Winter</b> by irina98987@yahoo.com (Irina Moga) (2010/11/26 23:18)

  Winter landscape, with rooks / water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, / plunges headlong into that black pond / where, absurd and out-of-season, a single swan / floats chaste as snow,taunting the clouded mind ... Last summer's reeds are al engraved in ice / as is your image in my eye; dry frost / glazes the window of my hurt;what solace / can be struck from rock to make hearts waste / grow green again? who'd walk in this bleak place? / Sylvia Plath.
• <b>Plath</b> In Gamut | The Writing Spectrum by lynseyshea (2010/06/14 09:25)

  A tribute to Sylvia Plath, the 'first' come to my attention, whose poems ruminate as frequently as my music. The ones that stuck: Conversation Among the Ruins; Winter Landscape, with Rooks; Pursuit; Prospect; Miss Drake ...
• <b>Sylvia Plath</b>, Volcanic Ash and the Black Sun of <b>Poetry</b> by Irina (2010/06/06 20:34)

  Another salient feature in Sylvia Plath's poetry (in my view) is the contrast of colors in obsessive associations: orange, bright carmine violently interlaced with black in an outburst that reminds us of volcanic lava. And after the onset of the eruption, we can begin to comb through the ... feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook, brooding as the winter night comes on." (Winter Landscape with Roots) Finally, a general note of hopelessness and the submersion into a void: ...
• `: <b>Sylvia Plath</b> Illustrated <b>Poems</b> - Sarah Smith by Sarah Smith (2010/04/15 07:43)

  Sylvia Plath Illustrated Poems. Blackberrying (1960). Black Rooks in Rainy Weather. The Moon and the Yew Tree. Winter Landscape (1957). Edge (1967). Posted by Sarah Smith at 07:43 ...
• <b>Sylvia Plath&#39;s</b> "<b>Winter Landscape, with Rooks</b>" | Suite101 by unknown (2009/03/13 13:17)

  Sylvia Plath's "Winter Landscape, with Rooks". Motion and emotion, landscape and mind, are connected in Syvia Plath's poem, "Winter Landscape, with Rooks". This frozen moment is a bleak time but not hopeless. Posted by ...
• Tamany Baker photographer/artist: Latest news and forthcoming <b>...</b> by Tamany Baker (2008/12/21 10:49)

  I made a small selection of new images which accompanied the two remaining large pieces from the Galway show together with the poem by Sylvia Plath which inspired Ruby and I so much: Winter Landscape, With Rooks ...
• Reflections, Passions, and Introspections: Your Image in My Eye... by Sahana (2008/11/25 20:05)

  Plath in "Winter Landscape, With Rooks" ...Last summer's reeds are all engraved ... Over the past few months, this poem has floated in and out of my mind...I admire Plath with her ability to ... Mad Girl's Love Song: Sylvia Plath ...
• Integral Options Cafe: <b>Poem</b>: <b>Sylvia Plath</b> by WH (2007/01/27 07:28)

  The austere sun descends above the fen, / an orange cyclops-eye, scorning to look / longer on this landscape of chagrin; / feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook, / brooding as the winter night comes on. / Last summer's ...
• choriamb: <b>poetry</b> before bed by choriamb (2005/06/28 18:48)

  Whenever I don't heed her warning, I have horrid nightmares all night long, as I did last night when I got the brilliant idea of reading Sylvia Plath poems out loud to myself for a half an hour. Dumb dumb dumb. Bad dreams alllll niiiiiight ... completely disagree. coincidentally, Winter Landscape, With Rooks has been my lullabye recently. the only poetry i've ever read before bed that wasn't required the next morning. Reply; New comment. Anonymous. June 29 2005 ...
• The Wondering Minstrels: Black <b>Rook</b> in Rainy Weather -- <b>Sylvia Plath</b> by Sitaram (2002/05/06 03:21)

  (I'm skipping all the who-is-sylvia-what-is-she details, because it's been done to death.) Amulya. [Minstrels Links] Sylvia Plath: Poem #53, Winter landscape, with rocks Poem #129, Ariel Poem #366, Child Poem #404, Daddy ...
• Tale Of A Tub <b>Poem Sylvia Plath Poems</b> - <b>Poems</b> About by love poems (2001/01/31 17:00)

  Also enjoy funny, love, friendship, family poems. You can see more famous poems by this author : Two Campers In Cloud Country, The Munich Mannequins, Purdah, Perseus, Winter Landscape, With Rooks, . Poems by Sylvia Plath ...
• The Munich Mannequins <b>Poem Sylvia Plath Poems</b> by love poems (2001/01/31 17:00)

  Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children. / Cold as snow breath, it tamps the womb / Where the yew trees blow like hydras, / The tree of life and the tree of life / Unloosing their moons, month after month, to no purpose. / The blood flood is ...
• <b>Winter Landscape, With Rooks Poem Sylvia Plath Poems</b> by love poems (2001/01/31 17:00)

  Poem Winter Landscape, With Rooks by sylvia plath. You can see more Sylvia Plath poems and quotes. Also enjoy funny, love, friendship, family poems. You can see more famous poems by this author : The Swarm, Sculptor, Strumpet Song, ...
• Two Campers In Cloud Country <b>Poem Sylvia Plath Poems</b> by love poems (2001/01/31 17:00)

  Rock Lake, Canada) / In this country there is neither measure nor balance / To redress the dominance of rocks and woods, / The passage, say, of these man-shaming clouds. / No gesture of yours or mine could catch their attention, / No word ...
• The Wondering Minstrels: <b>Winter landscape</b>, with rocks -- <b>Sylvia Plath</b> by Sitaram (1999/04/04 10:25)

  Somebody asked about the confessional poets - Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Adrienne Rich and the like - and as we all know, the minstrels exist only to serve... :-). (Poem #53) Winter landscape, with rocks. Water in the millrace, through a ... The austere sun descends above the fen, an orange cyclops-eye, scorning to look longer on this landscape of chagrin; feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook, brooding as the winter night comes on. Last summer's reeds are all ...

(These are public search results on the terms: 'Sylvia Plath: Winter Landscape, With Rooks poem')