And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
T.S. Eliot said to me 'There__ only one way a poet can develop his actual writing _ apart from self-criticism & continual practice. And that is by reading other poetry aloud _ and it doesn__ matter whether he understands it or not (i.e. even if it__ in another language.) What matters above all, is educating the ear.' What matters, is to connect your own voice with an infinite range of verbal cadences & sequences _ and only endless actual experience of your ear can store all that in your nervous system. The rest can be left to your life & your character.
Letters of Ted Hughes
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T.S. Eliot said to me 'There__ only one way a poet can develop his actual writing _ apart from self-criticism & continual practice. And that is by reading other poetry aloud _ and it doesn__ matter whether he understands it or not (i.e. even if it__ in another language.) What matters above all, is educating the ear.' What matters, is to connect your own voice with an infinite range of verbal cadences & sequences _ and only endless actual experience of your ear can store all that in your nervous system. The rest can be left to your life & your character.
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