I was around 21 years old when first read this. I stared at the page and began crying. It gave me an understanding of my father that I never had before. This is such a gift.
i felt this exact same way. growing up in chicago my father was the only one who made money working outside in the winters of chicago he had 5 kids to take care of and never once complained about it no matter how cold or how much pain he was in, he always got the job done and no one used to thank him and it would break my heart. as a father of 2 babys at the age of 28, i have a hard time believing in myself sometimes it makes me understand how strong of a man he really was and still is til this very moment. time changes but true love always stays the same.
As a mother of three, I have experienced “ love’s austere and lonely offices” for the second time. Listening to the poem read by Robert himself, I got deeply moved. Thank you so much!
I have said for years that I will recite this poem at my dad's funeral. I wonder if anyone has seen Julian Peters' book, Poems to See By. His interpretation of this poem (and many others) as a comic artist is particularly moving. It is a beautiful hardback book published by Plough.
One of the great things about a great poem is that you give it away, and others find riches you yourself never imagined. Listen to Tom O’Bedlam read this; it will put a chill up your spine.
Those Winter Sundays BY ROBERT HAYDEN Sundays too my father got up early and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor in the weekday weather made banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, and slowly I would rise and dress, fearing the chronic angers of that house, Speaking indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?
I was around 21 years old when first read this. I stared at the page and began crying. It gave me an understanding of my father that I never had before. This is such a gift.
Really made me realize what my Father did for me. He wasn’t perfect but he provided and cared for his family.
i felt this exact same way. growing up in chicago my father was the only one who made money working outside in the winters of chicago he had 5 kids to take care of and never once complained about it no matter how cold or how much pain he was in, he always got the job done and no one used to thank him and it would break my heart. as a father of 2 babys at the age of 28, i have a hard time believing in myself sometimes it makes me understand how strong of a man he really was and still is til this very moment. time changes but true love always stays the same.
Thanks for posting this. One of the most beautiful poems in the American tradition.
As a mother of three, I have experienced “ love’s austere and lonely offices” for the second time.
Listening to the poem read by Robert himself, I got deeply moved.
Thank you so much!
A solemn piece of work to be sure, with all the symbolism and actualities that invokes it. Thank you for this piece.
This is one of my favorites. And for men especially, love does have offices.
An absolutely magnificent, magnificent piece of art. Beautiful and moving and simply magnificent.
Regretting about past childhood age, why I never thank that great father who had gavin sacrificed his life for us.😑What a great peom.
I have said for years that I will recite this poem at my dad's funeral. I wonder if anyone has seen Julian Peters' book, Poems to See By. His interpretation of this poem (and many others) as a comic artist is particularly moving. It is a beautiful hardback book published by Plough.
Austere: plain and simple
Offices: duties
One of the great things about a great poem is that you give it away, and others find riches you yourself never imagined. Listen to Tom O’Bedlam read this; it will put a chill up your spine.
Love the language in this poem. You can feel the chill in your esophagus.
Wtf
@@lucas2627 that’s what I’m sayin
Wtf
Brings tears to my eyes
Same here
Thank you for the home work
So, brilliant. 🙂
Lovely!
I'm not crying you're crying😢
everyone talking about the emotions behind the poem bruh? I was forced here by my teacher for homework
Lucky you.
SAME
Did you pass?
Same bere
Thank you.
I like those words
He is the first saint mentioned in Alice Randall`s Black Bottom Saints
Watching for exam
EFT? lol
Did you pass?
me re llega el poema de este chabonardo se lo quiere
Those Winter Sundays
BY ROBERT HAYDEN
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
happy ms.wooten
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INSPECTED
👀