Yahoo Suche Web Suche

  1. amazon.de wurde im letzten Monat von mehr als 1.000.000 Nutzern besucht

    Erhalten auf Amazon Angebote für sylvia plath gedichte. Entdecke Tausende Produkte. Lesen Kundenbewertungen und finden Bestseller

Suchergebnisse

  1. Suchergebnisse:
  1. Vor 4 Tagen · “I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.” The Bell Jar is a novel about mental illnesses, female independence, families, and so much more.

  2. Vor 3 Tagen · Plaths einzige zu Lebzeiten veröffentlichte Werke waren The Colossus & Other Poems (London, 1960) und der semi-autobiografische Roman Under a Glass Cover (1963). 1965 veröffentlichte er Ariel, das von der Kritik sehr gelobt wurde und zu einem der Bestseller der anglo-amerikanischen Lyrik des 20. Jahrhunderts. 1982 wurde Plath posthum der Pulitzer-Preis für ihre Gesammelten Gedichte verliehen.

  3. Vor 3 Tagen · a poem by: Sylvia Plath. Color floods to the spot, dull purple. The rest of the body is all washed-out, The color of pearl. In a pit of a rock. The sea sucks obsessively, One hollow the whole sea’s pivot. The size of a fly, The doom mark.

  4. www.threads.net › @poetryicommunity › post- Sylvia Plath

    Vor 2 Tagen · Poetry • Quotes • Lyrics (@poetryicommunity). 34 Likes. - Sylvia Plath.

  5. Vor 3 Tagen · Sylvia Plath (; October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist, and short-story writer. She is credited with advancing the genre of confessional poetry and is best known for two of her published collections, The Colossus and Other Poems (1960) and Ariel (1965), as well as The Bell Jar, a semi-autobiographical ...

  6. Vor 3 Tagen · Eavesdropper Poem by Sylvia Plath. Poems Quotes Books Biography Comments. Eavesdropper. y grower, Mole on my shoulder, To be scratched absently, To bleed, if it comes to that. The stain of the tropics. Still urinous on you, a sin. A kind of bush-stink. You may be local, But that yellow! Godawful! Your body one. Long nicotine- finger. On which I,

  7. Vor 18 Stunden · Zeros, shutting on nothing, Set close, like birth pangs. The absence of shrieks. Made a hole in the hot day, a vacancy. The glassy light was a clear wall, The thickets quiet. I felt a still busyness, an intent. I felt hands round a tea mug, dull, blunt, Ringing the white china. How they awaited him, those little deaths!