OwlTail

Cover image of Robert Hass

Robert Hass

30 Podcast Episodes

Latest 5 Dec 2022 | Updated Daily

Episode artwork

The Distribution of Happiness, by Robert Hass

much poetry muchness

16 Jun 2022

Episode artwork

Meditation at Lagunitas by Robert Hass

Words in the Air

Read by Terry CasburnProduction and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman

2mins

9 May 2022

Similar People

Episode artwork

Robert Hass: "Nach der Natur" - Strahlende Sonne, kein Hauch

Buchkritik - Deutschlandfunk Kultur

Die Gedichte des amerikanischen Lyrikers Robert Hass speisen sich aus genauer Naturbeobachtung. Aber nie entsteht dabei der Eindruck von Weltflucht, denn Flora und Fauna erscheinen in "Nach der Natur" ebenso fragil wie schützenswert. Von Tobias Lehmkuhl www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Lesart Hören bis: 19.01.2038 04:14 Direkter Link zur Audiodatei

4mins

9 Aug 2021

Episode artwork

Robert Hass: "Nach der Natur" - Strahlende Sonne, kein Hauch

Lesart - Deutschlandfunk Kultur

Die Gedichte des amerikanischen Lyrikers Robert Hass speisen sich aus genauer Naturbeobachtung. Aber nie entsteht dabei der Eindruck von Weltflucht, denn Flora und Fauna erscheinen in "Nach der Natur" ebenso fragil wie schützenswert. Von Tobias Lehmkuhl www.deutschlandfunkkultur.de, Lesart Hören bis: 19.01.2038 04:14 Direkter Link zur Audiodatei

4mins

9 Aug 2021

Most Popular

Episode artwork

Episode 140: Robert Hass

The Sunday Poems with Ken Hada

This episode includes poems from Robert Hass’s 2008 Pulitzer Prize-winning book: Time and Materials.

7mins

27 Jun 2021

Episode artwork

Robert Hass' "Meditation at Lagunitas"

The Daily Poem

Robert L. Hass (born March 1, 1941) is an American poet. He served as Poet Laureate of the United States from 1995 to 1997.[1] He won the 2007 National Book Award[2] and shared the 2008 Pulitzer Prize[3] for the collection Time and Materials: Poems 1997–2005.[4] In 2014 he was awarded the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets.[5] - Bio via Wikipedia Our GDPR privacy policy was updated on August 8, 2022. Visit acast.com/privacy for more information.

8mins

19 Apr 2021

Episode artwork

Arthur Sze Reads Robert Hass

The New Yorker: Poetry

Arthur Sze joins Kevin Young to read “The Problem of Describing Trees,” by Robert Hass, and his own poem “Vectors.” Sze has received the Landon Literary Award, the Jackson Poetry Prize and, in 2019, the National Book Award in Poetry.

32mins

18 Nov 2020

Episode artwork

20th Century Poet Commentaries - Robert Hass

The Poet and The Poem

Robert L. Hass served as Poet Laureate of the United States from 1995 to 1997. He won the 2007 National Book Award and shared the 2008 Pulitzer Prize.

4mins

20 Jul 2020

Episode artwork

Misery and Splendor by Robert Hass

Words in the Air

Production and Sound Design by Kevin Seaman Misery and SplendorBY ROBERT HASSSummoned by conscious recollection, shewould be smiling, they might be in a kitchen talking,before or after dinner. But they are in this other room,the window has many small panes, and they are on a couchembracing. He holds her as tightly  as he can, she buries herself in his body.Morning, maybe it is evening, lightis flowing through the room. Outside,the day is slowly succeeded by night,succeeded by day. The process wobbles wildlyand accelerates: weeks, months, years. The light in the roomdoes not change, so it is plain what is happening.They are trying to become one creature,and something will not have it. They are tenderwith each other, afraidtheir brief, sharp cries will reconcile them to the momentwhen they fall away again. So they rub against each other,their mouths dry, then wet, then dry.They feel themselves at the center of a powerfuland baffled will. They feelthey are an almost animal,washed up on the shore of a world—or huddled against the gate of a garden—to which they can’t admit they can never be admitted.

2mins

19 Jun 2020

Episode artwork

*OUTTAKE*: Meditación en Lagunitas (Robert Hass, en voces del autor y Ezequiel Zaidenwerg)

Orden de traslado

Todos los nuevos pensamientos son acerca de la pérdida. En eso se parecen a todos los viejos. La idea, por ejemplo, de que cada detalle borra la luminosa claridad de una idea general. De que ese pájaro carpintero con cara de payaso, que está horadando la corteza muerta y ya tallada de ese abedul negro, por su sola presencia, es una suerte de desprendimiento trágico de un mundo primigenio hecho todo de luz indivisa. O aquel otro concepto de que como no existe en este mundo nada que equivalga a la zarza de la mora, toda palabra es elegía de lo que significa. Anoche, tarde, hablábamos con un amigo de eso, y había en su voz un dejo de tristeza, un tono casi quejumbroso. Después de un rato comprendí que cuando se habla de esta forma todo termina disolviéndose: justicia, pino, mujer, cabello, vos y yo. Pensé en una mujer con la que hacía el amor, y me acordé de cómo, algunas veces al agarrarle los pequeños hombros con las manos, sentía un violento asombro ante su presencia, como una sed de sal, del río de mi infancia, con sus islas de sauces, la música pueril de la lancha de paseo, las zonas pantanosas en las que capturábamos aquellos pececitos color naranja y plata que se llamaban peces sol. Nada tenía que ver con ella. Anhelo, le decimos, porque el deseo está lleno de infinitas distancias. Me parece que yo fui lo mismo para ella. Pero me acuerdo tanto de la forma en que sus manos partían el pan, o aquello que su padre le dijo que la había lastimado, las cosas que soñaba. Hay algunos momentos en que el cuerpo y las palabras] son igualmente numinosos, días que son como la continuación de la carne, Tanta ternura, de esas tardes y esas noches, diciendo mora, mora, mora, mora.

4mins

7 Jun 2020

Loading