Mary Oliver
Born
in Maple Heights, Ohio, The United States
September 10, 1935
Died
January 17, 2019
Website
Genre
A Thousand Mornings: Poems
17 editions
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published
2012
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Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
14 editions
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published
2017
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Upstream: Selected Essays
7 editions
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published
2016
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Dog Songs: Poems
19 editions
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published
2013
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New and Selected Poems, Volume One
14 editions
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published
1992
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Felicity
10 editions
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published
2015
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Dream Work
16 editions
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published
1986
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Blue Horses
7 editions
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published
2014
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Why I Wake Early
15 editions
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published
2004
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A Poetry Handbook
14 editions
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published
1994
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“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
―
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
―
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
―
―
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