Poetry

Click on the name of the poem you would like to explore...

The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus

I Come From There by Mahmoud Darwish

Lion Heart by Amanda Chong

The New Colossus
by Emma Lazarus
 The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus
 Context/The Poet

This famous sonnet by Emma Lazarus is engraved on a bronze plaque mounted inside the
lower level of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

The poem speaks of the millions of immigrants who came to the United States (many of them
through Ellis Island at the port of New York).

Lazarus, a New Yorker of Portuguese Sephardic Jewish descent, was asked to write the poem
to raise money for the statue's pedestal. She drew inspiration from the work she did as an aide
for refugees on Ward's Island.
 Key Words

Key Word Definition

The New Colossus
Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand brazen
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
astride
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
Exiles
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she beacon
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, storied
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. pomp
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” wretched
A much larger than life size statue of a person or a god.
The poem describes the Colossus of Rhodes and calls
the Statue of Liberty a “new” colossus in its title.
Made of brass or bold/shameless
Standing with one leg on either side of an object. In this
case, the Colossus of Rhodes was believed to straddle
the entrance to a harbor.
People separated from their native country
A fire that can be seen from a distance
Having a noteworthy past
Ceremonial displays, usually ones that are very showy
and expensive.
A very unhappy or unfortunate state

refuse Rubbish, trash, garbage

Emma Lazarus
teeming Filled to the brim, overflowing.

Tempest- A ship that is tossed by rough waves in a storm.

tost

QUIZLET
 Poetic Techniques
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Emma Lazarus
Simile
This line compares the Statue of Liberty with the Colossus of
Rhodes to start to express that the statue was not built to seek
fame.
Alliteration
Creates a rhythmic sound that mimics waves crashing on the
shore one after another.
Metaphor
Here the light of the torch is compared with the power and
light of the thunder lightning.
Personification
The poet has used personification in the ninth line, “Cries she
with her silent lips.” The line means the statues it cries like a
human being.
Imagery
Lazarus has used images appealing to the sense of sight such
as, “the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” This vivid
description of masses presents the crowd arriving in America.
 Summary
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, The speaker first describes what the New Colossus will not be like: the giant bronze statue of the
sun-god Helios in ancient Rhodes.

The Colossus of Rhodes was constructed to commemorate a military victory and was thought to
With conquering limbs astride from land to land; stand with its legs on either side of a harbor.

The Statue of Liberty is found just off the coast of New York and Jersey, lying in New York harbor. It
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand is here the sea meets the shore and the metaphorical gates (the surrounding geography) which
stand ready to let all who desire freedom in.

The statue looks like a powerful woman and holds a torch that's lit through the modern wonders of
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame electricity.
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name She is depicted as a motherly figure who welcomes immigrants to America
Mother of Exiles.

From her beacon-hand The Statue of Liberty is imagined as serving a physical purpose as well as its symbolic one. Her
Glows world-wide welcome; torch hand is visible to ships, which brought immigrants from all over the world to America.

her mild eyes command Describes her gentle yet powerful gaze upon New York Harbor, which is sandwiched between New
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. York City and Brooklyn (which were still separate cities when the poem was written).

The poem then gives the statue herself a voice. She speaks directly to the nations of Europe, telling
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” them she wants no part of their showy displays of power.

cries she Though she is a silent statue, the speaker suggests that her symbolic message is clear.
With silent lips.

“Give me your tired, your poor, She goes on to command the ancient European nations to send its impoverished citizens—the
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, thousands who long for freedom—to America.

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. These people have been forgotten and rejected in their overly-populated countries with limited
resources.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, Once again, she commands the ancient nations to send her those who have been exiled and
battered by the storms of misfortune.

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” She beckons these immigrants toward her with her torch, which metaphorically illuminates the
entryway to America and all the opportunities it offers
 Key Images

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus
 I Come From There
By Mahmoud Darwish
I Come From There
I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland…..

Mahmoud Darwish
 Context/The Poet

Mahmoud Darwish (1941-2008) was an award-winning Palestinian author

and poet. His literature, particularly his poetry, created a sense of
Palestinian identity and was used to resist the occupation of his homeland.

The Israeli government forced Darwish to live in exile for 26 years after he
joined the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) in the 1970’s. During
that time, the poet addressed issues of exile, homesickness, and a love and
yearning for a home to which he was unable to return.

The themes in his poems, however, are universal – loneliness, exile,

nostalgia, sorrow – and millions of people who read and speak the Arabic
language hail him as a modern literary titan. Darwish died in 2008, following
complications from a surgery performed in Houston, Texas.
 Key Words

I Come From There A human being (who will

mortals eventually die)
I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends, bounty A generous gift
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass. Lasting forever, will not
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words, immortal die
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
laden Loaded down; burdened
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood render To cause or to do
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland…..
Overpowering sadness;
weeps
Mahmoud Darwish
crying
 Poetic Techniques
I Come From There
I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland…..
Mahmoud Darwish
Repetition
The repetition of ¨I have...¨ is used to stress the connection
and belonging that the poet feels towards his homeland,
Palestine. He is remembering and longing for his brothers and
friends back home.
Metaphor
´Prison cell´ is used as a metaphor to describe how Darwish
felt as his country began going through conflict and became
restricted. Alternatively he could be describing how he felt
being exiled from his home, Palestine, unable to see his
friends and brothers.
Alliteration/Metaphor
Darwish describes his country using a metaphor as a ´wave´ at
a time when it was all well, but uses alliteration to stress the
phrase ´snatched by sea-gulls´, also a metaphor suggesting
that people came along and ruined the peace.
Personification
The personification of the sky weeping suggests that the
country is suffering and experiencing conflict and making it
known through its overpowering cries.
 Summary
I Come From There
I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland…..
Mahmoud Darwish
In “I Come From There,” we clearly see two of Darwish’s
recurring themes: exile and dispossession. Using vivid
imagery and metaphor, Darwish writes beautiful poems
about a country he feels a deep connection to. Notice how
Darwish also uses language itself to make various claims of
ownership to his ancestral land, even inventing the final
word, so to speak.
The poem ‘I Come From There’ was written during the
period in Darwish’s life where he was exiled. He compares
his state of exile to a “prison cell with a cold window,” where
he longs to be at home with his friends, brothers, and his
mother.
Darwish found comfort in his writing during those 26 years,
and he learned to use it as a form of resistance. In the
poem, however Darwish explains that he has used all the
words available to him, and can draw from them only the
single most important word: homeland.
 Key images

I Come From There

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland…..

Mahmoud Darwish
 Lion Heart
By Amanda Chong
 Lion Heart Lion Heart continued...

You came out of the sea,

skin dappled scales of sunlight;
Riding crests, waves of fish in your fists.
Washed up, your gills snapped shut.
Water whipped the first breath of your lungs,
Your lips’ bud teased by morning mists.
You conquered the shore, its ivory coast.
Your legs still rocked with the memory of waves.
Sinews of sand ran across your back-
Rising runes of your oceanic origins.
Your heart thumped- an animal skin drum
heralding the coming of a prince.
In the jungle, amid rasping branches,
trees loosened their shadows to shroud you.
The prince beheld you then, a golden sheen.
Your eyes, two flickers; emerald blaze
You settled back on fluent haunches;
The squall of a beast. your roar, your call.
Centuries, by the sea’s pulmonary,
a vein throbbing humming bumboats –
your trees rise as skyscrapers.
Their ankles lost in swilling water,
as they heave themselves higher
above the mirrored surface.
Remember your self: your raw lion heart,
Each beat a stony echo that washes
through ribbed vaults of buildings.
Remember your keris, iron lightning
ripping through tentacles of waves,
double-edged, curved to a point-
flung high and caught unsheathed, scattering
five stars in the red tapestry of your sky.
Amanda Chong

In crackling boats, seeds arrived, wind-blown,

You summoned their colours to the palm
of your hand, folded them snugly into loam,
watched saplings swaddled in green,
as they sunk roots, spawned shade,
and embraced the land that embraced them.
cont...
Context/The Poet
Amanda Chong is a Singaporean born lawyer and poet.
She wrote Lion Heart when she was only sixteen. It went
on to win several prizes at international levels.

The poem Lion Heart is about the pride the people of

Singapore have in their country. The emblem of the
country is the mer-lion and this poem depicts its almost
supernatural strengths as it rose from the waves, walked
ashore and established the city state. Over the centuries,
people from various countries have come to its shores
and worked hard to enrich the country with their culture.
Today, Singapore is one of the wealthiest nations and its
skyscrapers stand testimony to its wealth and power. The
poet exhorts the country to keep its flag flying high all the
time so that the country remains one of the world leaders.
 Key Words

Lion Heart

You came out of the sea,

skin dappled scales of sunlight;
dappled spotty
Riding crests, waves of fish in your fists.
Washed up, your gills snapped shut.
Water whipped the first breath of your lungs, the tissue connecting
Your lips’ bud teased by morning mists. Sinews muscle and bone

You conquered the shore, its ivory coast.

Your legs still rocked with the memory of waves. A type of lettering from
Sinews of sand ran across your back- runes
old Germanic languages
Rising runes of your oceanic origins.
Your heart thumped- an animal skin drum
heralding the coming of a prince. A sudden and violent gust
squall of wind
In the jungle, amid rasping branches,
trees loosened their shadows to shroud you.
The prince beheld you then, a golden sheen. a soil with roughly equal
Your eyes, two flickers; emerald blaze loam proportions of sand, silt,
You settled back on fluent haunches; and clay.
The squall of a beast. your roar, your call.

In crackling boats, seeds arrived, wind-blown, swaddled Wrap in cloth

You summoned their colours to the palm
of your hand, folded them snugly into loam,
watched saplings swaddled in green,
as they sunk roots, spawned shade, saplings A young tree
and embraced the land that embraced them.
 Key Words

continued... a vein that transports

pulmonary deoxygenated blood from
the heart to the lungs;
Centuries, by the sea’s pulmonary,
a vein throbbing humming bumboats –
your trees rise as skyscrapers. bumboats are an iconic
feature of Singapore and
Their ankles lost in swilling water,
would have transported
as they heave themselves higher bumboats
goods from ships at sea
above the mirrored surface. into the quays of
Singapore.
Remember your self: your raw lion heart,
Each beat a stony echo that washes
through ribbed vaults of buildings. swilling Wash or rinse out

Remember your keris, iron lightning

ripping through tentacles of waves, in the Indonesian and
double-edged, curved to a point- Keris Malay languages, is an
asymmetrical dagger
flung high and caught unsheathed, scattering
five stars in the red tapestry of your sky.
not placed in or protected
unsheathed
by a sheath or covering.
Amanda Chong
 Poetic Techniques
Lion Heart
You came out of the sea,
skin dappled scales of sunlight;
Riding crests, waves of fish in your fists.
Washed up, your gills snapped shut.
Water whipped the first breath of your lungs,
Your lips’ bud teased by morning mists.
You conquered the shore, its ivory coast.
Your legs still rocked with the memory of waves.
Sinews of sand ran across your back-
Rising runes of your oceanic origins.
Your heart thumped- an animal skin drum
heralding the coming of a prince.
In the jungle, amid rasping branches,
trees loosened their shadows to shroud you.
The prince beheld you then, a golden sheen.
Your eyes, two flickers; emerald blaze
You settled back on fluent haunches;
The squall of a beast. your roar, your call.
In crackling boats, seeds arrived, wind-blown,
You summoned their colours to the palm
of your hand, folded them snugly into loam,
watched saplings swaddled in green,
as they sunk roots, spawned shade,
and embraced the land that embraced them.
Metaphor (Extended Metaphor)
The metaphor of Singapore as a mer-lion coming out of the
sea is used in stanza 1 to show how Singapore as an island
has developed from humble beginnings.
Imagery
The scales on the merlion are described as "dappled' (marked
with spots or patches) and like the mirror later in the poem,
reflects sunlight - it creates an image of it being almost like
gold or jewels, hinting at its value or potential. It creates an
almost prehistoric sense of a fish crawling out of the ocean
and learning to walk on the land.
Sibilance
The sibilance in "snapped shut" highlights the deft move made
as the merlion stops being a creature of the sea and breathes
air. The whole of this stanza up until this point has featured
sibilance creating the sounds of the sea.
Alliteration
The "water whipping" reflects the swift movement here which
is almost aspirate reflecting the gasping breaths of the merlion
as it is forced to survive by breathing air - "whipping" suggests
a violent/ brutal adaptation to its new environment implying the
merlion's (Singapore's) determination and power of survival.
 continued...
Centuries, by the sea’s pulmonary,
a vein throbbing humming bumboats –
your trees rise as skyscrapers.
Their ankles lost in swilling water,
as they heave themselves higher
above the mirrored surface.
Remember your self: your raw lion heart,
Each beat a stony echo that washes
through ribbed vaults of buildings.
Remember your keris, iron lightning
ripping through tentacles of waves,
double-edged, curved to a point-
flung high and caught unsheathed, scattering
five stars in the red tapestry of your sky.
Amanda Chong
Metaphor
the "sea's pulmonary" could be the now iconic but once
essential Singapore river that flows through the heart of the
city (again literally and metaphorically) as this was the way
goods were delivered and traded which drove Singapore's
early economy.
Imperative
The imperative stresses the necessity of her belief that
Singaporeans should not forget their heritage and past.
Imagery
The Singaporean flag with its 5 stars (modelled on the flag of
China) and the crescent moon (a symbol of Muslim Malays) is
used in the final stanza in a final flourish of patriotic imagery.
The speaker literally calls on the people of Singapore/ the
merlion to remember their heritage/ the pride of how their
country has come into being as she metaphorically paints the
sky with it.
 Key images

Lion Heart
You came out of the sea,
skin dappled scales of sunlight;
Riding crests, waves of fish in your fists.
Washed up, your gills snapped shut.
Water whipped the first breath of your lungs,
Your lips’ bud teased by morning mists.
You conquered the shore, its ivory coast.
Your legs still rocked with the memory of waves.
Sinews of sand ran across your back-
Rising runes of your oceanic origins.
Your heart thumped- an animal skin drum
heralding the coming of a prince.
Centuries, by the sea’s pulmonary,
a vein throbbing humming bumboats –
your trees rise as skyscrapers.
Their ankles lost in swilling water,
as they heave themselves higher
above the mirrored surface.
Remember your self: your raw lion heart,
Each beat a stony echo that washes
through ribbed vaults of buildings.
Remember your keris, iron lightning
ripping through tentacles of waves,
double-edged, curved to a point-

In the jungle, amid rasping branches, flung high and caught unsheathed, scattering
trees loosened their shadows to shroud you. five stars in the red tapestry of your sky.
The prince beheld you then, a golden sheen.
Your eyes, two flickers; emerald blaze Amanda Chong
You settled back on fluent haunches;
The squall of a beast. your roar, your call.

In crackling boats, seeds arrived, wind-blown,

You summoned their colours to the palm
of your hand, folded them snugly into loam,
watched saplings swaddled in green,
as they sunk roots, spawned shade,
and embraced the land that embraced them.
cont...