I learned to be touched by sadness listening to his poem at Kennedy's Inauguration. I was only 13 and didn't know who I was, but as I sat watching him struggle with the bright Sun on a cold day as it bleached the letters white. How sad it seemed that this great man had to endure seeming addled by age. I felt sadness as though he were my Grandfather who I never knew showing me what there was to look forward to a lifetime later.
I remember that day very well. Admiration for Kennedy's choice and pity for Frost's difficulties, which weren't so much of age as of the windy weather. I doubt he'd ever had to read in such circumstances! But when he was able to get into The Gift Outright from memory, everything was fine again.
"Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening" has been a favorite of mine for many years. We are blessed with so many wonderful men and women who express themselves in ways that haunt us forever. Those poems become part of us.
How wonderful to hear Frost’s voice reading his poems! ‘Stopping by Woods…’ has remained a favourite of mine since English lit. class during the 60s. Many years later I was privileged to visit his house in Maine - a special memory. Thank you for sharing this tape.
i cracked a poetry book open out of nowhere and landed on The Road Not taken.... me and my kiddos used to try and recite it over our campfires... now... my son recites it perfectly 10 years later....
I’ve heard Frost read his poems before, I had a cassette tape of them. I wish this rendition did not have the background music. His voice is good enough by itself.
I love this man’s writing. It was a key inspiration for my own poetry writing. As all human beings, Mr. Frost had struggles. It is always important to separate the art from the artist. I wish more Americans were able to divorce celebrity from capability; especially when they choose their political leaders.
The poems, the poet, all marvelous. As is hearing him read them. How perfect that is. Each takes me away to somewhere else. Maybe a past memory or just someplace I've not been but would greatly love to go.
I wonder what Mr. Frost would think of me, thinking of him, on this lovely snowy day. Slowly pacing across my house, drapes retracted. Gazing aimlessly outside, not taking in any one thing but everything at once. Nostalgic for days gone by that never happened. Just the same. My flesh retreats, in a reluctant gait, to the the dark side of the house. Colder, dimmer, lifeless but unjudging. My soul desires the light.
Another literary figure, Robert Graves, said of Frost... "The truth is that Frost was the first American who could be honestly reckoned a master poet by world standards".
"To Frost" Poet, birthing words that never meet death, Against the window, vapor'ed in your breath. Composed upon unwinding roads you've crossed, Though warm in form, bone chilling is the Frost. Inspiration: your ill-timed given gift. Received in present tense so to uplift. For words, once spoken, spray across the air. And stop, without knowledge, of when and where. And so, all poets, outlived by their words, Shall live forever as the universe. by: Carlos Ornelas
@@abdulbasith6842wow, thank you so much. I must admit that I've only read two of his poems. But I saw one of his interviews and heard him resite a poem before and I respect his knowledge and his thoughts on poetry.
@@abdulbasith6842 I've never memorized anyone's poetry. I can barely remember two or three of my own poems. Strangely, I've never read much of anything but my own works.
@@abdulbasith6842 I am humbled. Thank you so much. And yes, I agree, the music of today is trash. I've done my share of trash also. But nowadays, I believe in tradition and preserving culture more than ever. I'm glad there are still people in the world who appreciate and support the arts. It gives me great hope and fuels my creative engine. Sincerely, thank you.
I sit with rounded back. My arse in my normal chair - diverting my attention like a stop sign in the hand of a lollipop girl - I take time to listen to a man far wiser, with more hair, than me - He talks about trees and paths and words that curl , like pages of my old books all bent and brittled with time like me.
Beautiful Poems. Captivating the imagination as if it all happenned before our eyes, while stirring up feelings and smells and memories of (not} so long ago!
And there are the fallen leaves our tears rest, blow again mighty bare tree, and as I've rested, grow and shed again , so we, both have given and comforted coming of death life and leaves. Kathryn Thornton
I had to write that. .for had cancer not taking my beauty taken my beauty, I shall cry again, set alarm for evermore of my tears will have a place to rest I am thankful for the tree, and now I'm not alone
I wish this had included Directive, Nothing Gold Can Stay, Once by the Pacific, and Out, Out. But am glad to see Acquainted with the Night at least. I suppose The Death of the Hired Man was left out because it's too long for the format. But it would have been fun to include Forgive, O Lord, which is only two lines: "Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee/And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me."
India's former Prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru was found quoting in his diary the last four lines of 'Stopping by Woods..' the night that précéded his death... 'The Woods are lovely... And milles to go before I sleep..'
I´m looking for a poem that star something like (sorry about my English...) : In the hidden places of your hearth where never your mind get in...something new is growing ..., Can anybody help me to find it? any idea...?
Just search "Robert Frost reading his poetry" and you'll find a plethora of videos such as the one you are looking for. Of all the videos on TH-cam where Frost reads his own poems, this is probably the only one that has music added. It makes no sense to complain about the music.
@@wellread8320 Deepest thanks. We lost the original Gwendylyn Brooks The Mother like this. Ubiquitous and then gone but maybe it won't happen to Frost.
Home Burial is a very sad poem. The couple's first (and apparently only) child has died and the wife's grief turned to hatred of the husband for what she considered heartlessness. The husband is a rather dull, ungentle sort who looks down on women and doesn't really think they're worth understanding. She's leaving him, possibly for another man.
6:04 -With the help of AI, I’ve reimagined this classic poem, weaving in the idea of parallel worlds to bring fresh perspectives and depth. If you love this poem, give it a listen and share your thoughts-thank you! th-cam.com/video/cvHU6XfD4XM/w-d-xo.html
Just a crack in the road. I have observed' on pilgrimage, of no discernment. Wondering' to question, such'. Does each hour' coincide, each step'. To what side? Did this route bring' me, viewing a flaw' in a mis-match' journey. Not' merely mine, no-one' can lay claim's. On owning the trail, before they tread. What is a step' to the mile? - where is the mid way'? To you, or me. And when' would it be a finished story? If ever. Certainly not' by simply, laid death. To much in that' finds, unanswered. The mystery' one creates, by never showing. How curve and destination could have forked. There-by' expanding, what dreams' may had come. If not for untimely leaving, of existence. For that, never again' being known. As branch, or root. Twisting' down ever deeper' into tomb. Without Sun's rays, or up to fresh, clear air. Finding blue sky's, by touch' of heaven's domain. The slow' arduous, direction across. To maybe, again' push through. Up-towards, light's greater' caption. Perhaps' tearing the veil. And making straight' the path, leading out' of perdition. Breaking' a place in asfault. And rising above' the crack, once' more. To continue' a new way. Down a much' different road.
What is this awful convention of playing background music? Why are you drowning the words rendering them useless? Why are you trying to set my mood? The poem should do that. My experience of it should be my own
I learned to be touched by sadness listening to his poem at Kennedy's Inauguration. I was only 13 and didn't know who I was, but as I sat watching him struggle with the bright Sun on a cold day as it bleached the letters white. How sad it seemed that this great man had to endure seeming addled by age. I felt sadness as though he were my Grandfather who I never knew showing me what there was to look forward to a lifetime later.
Prickly prose yourself, b'gorah
I remember that day very well. Admiration for Kennedy's choice and pity for Frost's difficulties, which weren't so much of age as of the windy weather. I doubt he'd ever had to read in such circumstances! But when he was able to get into The Gift Outright from memory, everything was fine again.
"Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening" has been a favorite of mine for many years. We are blessed with so many wonderful men and women who express themselves in ways that haunt us forever. Those poems become part of us.
This man's came to me as a child...who opened a book and ask him in..and he has been a welcome guest to my soul every since.
How wonderful to hear Frost’s voice reading his poems! ‘Stopping by Woods…’ has remained a favourite of mine since English lit. class during the 60s. Many years later I was privileged to visit his house in Maine - a special memory. Thank you for sharing this tape.
To hear him read them as an old man is very moving.
And as an old man, hearing him, brings me to tears
William Burroughs reading?
It is an important thing.
i cracked a poetry book open out of nowhere and landed on The Road Not taken.... me and my kiddos used to try and recite it over our campfires... now... my son recites it perfectly 10 years later....
One of my favourite poets but hear him read his own thoughts: now that's something else. Thanks for posting.
Thanks. Glad you enjoy Mr. Frost's poetry too.
Robert Frost....always such an old soul and giver of life! So grateful to you for all the beauty you gave us!
I love these poems, have since I was in grade school. He speaks of a time and a place in America that is no more.
How right you are about the no more, and more's the pity
A time of truth.
I’ve heard Frost read his poems before, I had a cassette tape of them. I wish this rendition did not have the background music. His voice is good enough by itself.
I love this man’s writing. It was a key inspiration for my own poetry writing. As all human beings, Mr. Frost had struggles. It is always important to separate the art from the artist. I wish more Americans were able to divorce celebrity from capability; especially when they choose their political leaders.
The poems, the poet, all marvelous. As is hearing him read them. How perfect that is. Each takes me away to somewhere else. Maybe a past memory or just someplace I've not been but would greatly love to go.
Every time it snows here in West KY(which is a rarity), I always feel compelled to listen to Stopping by Woods and then more Frost.
I’ve enjoyed reading his poetry books. Thank you for sharing. ✝️❤️
I wonder what Mr. Frost would think of me, thinking of him, on this lovely snowy day. Slowly pacing across my house, drapes retracted. Gazing aimlessly outside, not taking in any one thing but everything at once. Nostalgic for days gone by that never happened. Just the same. My flesh retreats, in a reluctant gait, to the the dark side of the house. Colder, dimmer, lifeless but unjudging. My soul desires the light.
He could like it.
📃✍️👂🫶🏻
It's beautiful
Very good!
He’d see an aspiring poet.
One of the greatest literary minds and voices that America ever produced.
Another literary figure, Robert Graves, said of Frost... "The truth is that Frost was the first American who could be honestly reckoned a master poet by world standards".
@@lesliekollerprivate5062 No whitman?
@@jaymo27 no Longfellow?
"To Frost"
Poet, birthing words that never meet death,
Against the window, vapor'ed in your breath.
Composed upon unwinding roads you've crossed,
Though warm in form, bone chilling is the Frost.
Inspiration: your ill-timed given gift.
Received in present tense so to uplift.
For words, once spoken, spray across the air.
And stop, without knowledge, of when and where.
And so, all poets, outlived by their words,
Shall live forever as the universe.
by: Carlos Ornelas
This is beautiful
@@abdulbasith6842wow, thank you so much. I must admit that I've only read two of his poems. But I saw one of his interviews and heard him resite a poem before and I respect his knowledge and his thoughts on poetry.
@@abdulbasith6842 I've never memorized anyone's poetry. I can barely remember two or three of my own poems. Strangely, I've never read much of anything but my own works.
@@GabriellaBlah thank you so much.
@@abdulbasith6842 I am humbled. Thank you so much. And yes, I agree, the music of today is trash. I've done my share of trash also. But nowadays, I believe in tradition and preserving culture more than ever. I'm glad there are still people in the world who appreciate and support the arts. It gives me great hope and fuels my creative engine. Sincerely, thank you.
The music is excellent.
I sit with rounded back. My arse in my normal chair - diverting my attention like a stop sign in the hand of a lollipop girl - I take time to listen to a man far wiser, with more hair, than me - He talks about trees and paths and words that curl , like pages of my old books all bent and brittled with time like me.
Near crying for the birch poem. God Bless.
Tell me about it...
Robert Frost was quoted as saying " it is the rhythm of the words that is more important than the words." I hear what he means.
Beautiful Poems. Captivating the imagination as if it all happenned before our
eyes, while stirring up feelings and smells and memories of (not} so long ago!
Heartwarming. One of my favorites!
A pleasure. Thank you.
Breathtaking
Source of inspiration
A great power of creation
SIR FROST IS A MAGICAL❤
A WONDERFUL🌟 A MAGICAL POET🏆🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 GOD BLESS
REST IN PEACE POWER AND LOVE🙏 THANK U FOR ALL U GAVE US SIR ROBERT FROST🏆🌟
Robert Frost and Ted Hughes are my favourite past century Poets. 🆗✔️👍🏻
Wonderful poet❤
Oh my God -chilling - waht a treasure.
This man inspires me
Wish this included several others as well: Desert Places, Neither Out Far Nor In Deep, "Out, out...:
Nothing gold can stay? 😢
That has made all the difference..
Wonderful poetry.
That is beautiful 😍
And there are the fallen leaves our tears rest, blow again mighty bare tree, and as I've rested, grow and shed again , so we, both have given and comforted coming of death life and leaves.
Kathryn Thornton
I had to write that. .for had cancer not taking my beauty taken my beauty, I shall cry again, set alarm for evermore of my tears will have a place to rest I am thankful for the tree, and now I'm not alone
I'm new to this and should learn editing but I thought it was beautiful, So does the tree
What a treasure
His poetry I memorize to try to get it.
The voice. Is a small frequency to the soul. Forget that name america. It was never yours.
This is Wonderfull!! But is it possible to hear it without the ambient piano behind it?
I wish this had included Directive, Nothing Gold Can Stay, Once by the Pacific, and Out, Out. But am glad to see Acquainted with the Night at least. I suppose The Death of the Hired Man was left out because it's too long for the format. But it would have been fun to include Forgive, O Lord, which is only two lines: "Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee/And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me."
I wish they would take out the soundtrack. His poems don’t require it.
There's a plethora of readings of his poetry on TH-cam without any music, go find one of them and stop complaining.
Yea ❤
I Like Robert Frost
So walls keep in or out elves. I never knew 😎
How many out there saw a granny brush her hair out in the morning
India's former Prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru was found quoting in his diary the last four lines of 'Stopping by Woods..' the night that précéded his death...
'The Woods are lovely...
And milles to go before I sleep..'
Not the words. The Man.
The Man behind the Words!
@@gcj7771 The Soul. Nor words, nor Man. Be good brother. You are other me. And I another you.
Nice 😊👍👍👍👍👍😊
Peace
I´m looking for a poem that star something like (sorry about my English...) : In the hidden places of your hearth where never your mind get in...something new is growing ..., Can anybody help me to find it? any idea...?
চমৎকার অসাধারণ কবিতা
বাংলা ভাষায় অনুবাদ চাই।
How much time did you have to decide?
Would you please post the musicless version of this?
Just search "Robert Frost reading his poetry" and you'll find a plethora of videos such as the one you are looking for. Of all the videos on TH-cam where Frost reads his own poems, this is probably the only one that has music added. It makes no sense to complain about the music.
@@wellread8320 Deepest thanks. We lost the original Gwendylyn Brooks The Mother like this. Ubiquitous and then gone but maybe it won't happen to Frost.
Background music is far too loud. Detracts
I have a question about Frost's poem "Home Burial" if anyone understands it
Home Burial is a very sad poem. The couple's first (and apparently only) child has died and the wife's grief turned to hatred of the husband for what she considered heartlessness. The husband is a rather dull, ungentle sort who looks down on women and doesn't really think they're worth understanding. She's leaving him, possibly for another man.
6:04 -With the help of AI, I’ve reimagined this classic poem, weaving in the idea of parallel worlds to bring fresh perspectives and depth. If you love this poem, give it a listen and share your thoughts-thank you! th-cam.com/video/cvHU6XfD4XM/w-d-xo.html
Just a crack in the road. I have observed' on pilgrimage, of no discernment. Wondering' to question, such'. Does each hour' coincide, each step'. To what side? Did this route bring' me, viewing a flaw' in a mis-match' journey. Not' merely mine, no-one' can lay claim's. On owning the trail, before they tread. What is a step' to the mile? - where is the mid way'? To you, or me. And when' would it be a finished story? If ever. Certainly not' by simply, laid death. To much in that' finds, unanswered. The mystery' one creates, by never showing. How curve and destination could have forked. There-by' expanding, what dreams' may had come. If not for untimely leaving, of existence. For that, never again' being known. As branch, or root. Twisting' down ever deeper' into tomb. Without Sun's rays, or up to fresh, clear air. Finding blue sky's, by touch' of heaven's domain. The slow' arduous, direction across. To maybe, again' push through. Up-towards, light's greater' caption. Perhaps' tearing the veil.
And making straight' the path, leading out' of perdition. Breaking' a place in asfault. And rising above' the crack, once' more. To continue' a new way. Down a much' different road.
The music ruins it.
What is this awful convention of playing background music? Why are you drowning the words rendering them useless? Why are you trying to set my mood? The poem should do that. My experience of it should be my own
Oh my gosh right??? Solemn and depressing music against poems that are largely the opposite , it literally made me feel uneasy
So true! Who likes this??
It’s nice when it’s done correctly. Many do it wrong.
@ There’s no “correct way” as far as I’m concerned ☺️
You can, as i had sk.e time ago, ACTUALLY BUY HIS COLLECTED WORKS, AND READ.
Im not trying to be rude by why does he remind me of the npcs in Minecraft dungeons😮
Great to hear the poet reading his works. Why the insipid music?
hi
great reading...crappy music.
born 1874. Wow. Wen he 10, 16, 21, 25, 30, 50. what his eyes Saw, what his Mind remembers, What his Being experienced.
he being just One, just a Man.
Ditto on the terrible music. Frost and Emily, American treasures.
The. background music is so disreacting
I'm alive