Bardic · British Culture · British Literature · Classic · Excerpt · Fragment · Jungian · Modernism · Poetry

Ted Hughes

Had you caught something in me,
Nocturnal and unknown to me? Or was it
Your doomed self, your tortured, crying,
Suffocating self? Whichever,
Those terrible, hypersensitive
Fingers of your verse closed round it and
Felt it alive. The poems, like smoking entrails,
Came soft into your hands.

—Ted Hughes, from “The Rabbit Catcher,” Birthday Letters. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 1st Edition Thus edition March 30, 1999)

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