John Gould Fletcher: “My Happiness is like this sand”

John Gould Fletcher: “My Happiness is like this sand: I let it run out of my hand”

John Gould Fletcher (b. Jan 3, 1886 ─ d. May 10, 1950) was an imagist poet. (One of the six imagists who couldn’t survive depression). His thoughts and poems triggered the hearts of many poem lovers and fall them in love with his rhythmic poetry. He ended all by committing suicide in the neighboring pond, forcefully and dreadful inhaling of water. His early work, irradiation; Sand and Spray (1915), and Goblin and Pagodas (1916). Mr. Fletcher had won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1939. Ezra Pound, the American poet, and critic complimented Fletcher in his The New Freewoman Review in 1913 and Amy Lowell, an American poet of the imagist school from Brookline, Massachusetts wrote of him,

No one is absolute master of the rhythm of verse libre.

Amy Lowell

His poem, Blue Water let us instantly create beautiful images that take us through the heat of mid-summer, the sky and make us remember the relaxing sound of shore and sands. That fictitious power urges us to go out and explore the sea around with some music.

Blue Water

Sea-violins are playing on the sands;
Curved bows of blue and white are flying over the pebbles,
See them attack the chords--dark basses, glinting trebles.
Dimly and faint they croon, blue violins.
“Suffer without regret,” they seem to cry,
“Though dark your suffering is, it may be music,
Waves of blue heat that wash midsummer sky;
Sea-violins that play along the sands.”

Melancholy Life: Amy Levy couldn’t survive “double D” war

“Amy used simple and meaningful words in her poem “A London Plane-Tree” it proved her analytical skills had chasmic thoughts on green, but her quietude said much more than that.”


Amy Judith levy (b. 10 Nov 1861 — d. 10 Sep 1889) British essayist and poet had depression from distress. It was those melancholy who cuddled her around a romantic relationship. Escaping route disappears if depression arise from relationship and especially those which is of Love and Romantic matters which becomes unable to resist. It worsens most when it makes self-realization every day.

But the case of Amy was a bit of different. She was fighting with her double D war. Apart from her Depression her second D was early rising deafness which spiked her depression.

Such melancholy never leaves human without suicidal. Amy gave up on them at the age of 27 when her literary career had started taking leaps. Xantippe was her first published poetry book in 1888 by Cambridge. It is said that the book was ready to publish three years before its publication. Some parts of the book talks about Thirsting Spirits, Soul and Love. The poemA London Plane-Tree” shows her love toward the nature.

Poem: “A London Plane-Tree” by Amy Levy

Green is the plane-tree in the square,
The other trees are brown;
They droop and pine for country air;
The plane-tree loves the town.
Here from my garret-pane, I mark
The plane-tree bud and blow,
Shed her recuperative bark,
And spread her shade below.
Among her branches, in and out,
The city breezes play;
The dun fog wraps her round about;
Above, the smoke curls grey.
Others the country take for choice,
And hold the town in scorn;
But she has listened to the voice
On city breezes borne.

Amy Levy

No one ever would savour love turning to a bed of roses and hours full of bitterness. Her distinguish features and sincerity had hidden her pain, and all of her melancholy, sick-minded rest of the lifetime. Amy, all vomited permanently on 10 Sep 1889 and let her soul be rested in peace, thus the story of Amy Levy ends…

Oscar Wilde wrote:
The loss is the world’s, but perhaps not hers. She was never robust; not often actually ill, but seldom well enough to feel life a joy instead of a burden; and her work was not poured out lightly, but drawn drop by drop from the very depth of her feeling. We may say of it that it was in truth her life's blood.

The Romance of a Shop is an early “New Woman” novel about four sisters, who decide to establish their own photography business and their own home in Central London after their father’s death and their loss of financial security. In this novel, Amy Levy examines both the opportunities and dangers of urban experience for women in the late nineteenth century who pursue independent work rather than follow the established paths of domestic service.

Also, Read Another suicidal poet Sergei Yesenin: To Die, In This Life, Is Not New, And Living’s No Newer, Of Course. And Virginia Woolf's Melancholy life and poetry. Never miss Lermontov's "The Demon" (a book of poetry) and his beautiful timeless paintings.

Sergei Yesenin: To die, in this life, is not new, And living’s no newer, of course.

“Sergei Yesenin proved that despite having bad habits (heavy drinking and outburst publicly), his soul was clean. When any man tired of living human life and want to go away from depression, die is not new. All that defined in his last poem before he committed suicide.”


Young Yesenin in 1912

His full name was Sergei Yesenin (b. 3 Oct, 1895 –d. 28 Dec 1925) was a popular poet of 20s from Russia. Even with his writings, he was a kind of guy who could light up the room by his appearance and impressive nature of his style. Moreover, this was the man that lady could easily arouse by his presence. However, being a constant drinker and outburst publicly was his regular nature.
At the age of 19, he published his first poetry book “Beryoza” (The Birch Tree) in 1914 was popular among the children. The poetry lover used to described him as “A Gem of a peasant poet”.
Below, the last poem of Yesenin was written with his blood before he hanged himself (his death story is not true nor confirmed as a suicide recital).

Farewell, my good friend, farewell.
In my heart, forever, you’ll stay.
May the fated parting foretell
That again we’ll meet up someday.
Let no words, no handshakes ensue,
No saddened brows in remorse, –
To die, in this life, is not new,
And living’s no newer, of course.

Still, his one of the poems tells us how a young woman of a village in mid-summer gives birth to a baby. It travels to emotion that awaken us into a series of joyous feelings. Also, this poem had written in 1912 and was translated into English in 1982

Poem: "Barefoot" by Sergei Yesenin

Barefoot on Midsummer Eve in the forest yonder
Mother went with skirt tucked up in the dew to wander.
Her bare feet were stung by herbs blessed with magic power,
In the meadow grass she wept, painful was that hour.
Suddenly, she cried aloud, pain her body shaking,
Down she lay and on the spot gave birth to a baby.
I was born to sound of song, meadow grass tucked around me.
In a rainbow bright the sun every morning bound me.
Child of rural summer rites I grew wiser, bolder.
Magic-making eventide happiness foretold me […]

The suicide story of Yesenin is still an unsolved matter of conflict. His work was banned in the country for many years.

Also, Read Poem: “If You Were One Inches Long” By Shel Silverstein and Melancholy Life: Amy Levy Couldn’t Survive “Double D” War