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The Night Abraham Called to the Stars: Poems
“The poems of The Night Abraham Called to the Stars mark the ripening of a new current in Bly’s career: Now in his mid-70s, he is writing with tremendous energy and clarity and force, and producing some of the best work of his long career.” — The Nation A volume of poetry with an emphasis on spirituality from the National Book Award winner. Drawing on the profound influence that Islamic poetry, such as Rumi's, has had on his work, Robert Bly transmutes the remarkable ghazal form into a stunning series of poems. In this form, the poet can change the landscape in each stanza, ranging from a love poem to wisdom literature to a complaint about the poet's private life. A cultured form with many references to other poems and poets, ghazal poetry challenges and involves the reader. In this volume, Bly's poetry resonates with deep spirituality while sounding the major themes of modern life. Merging wildness and a beautiful formality, this collection assures the reputation of one of the major poets of our era.
- GenresPoetry
112 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 2001
12 people are currently reading
103 people want to read
About the author
Robert Bly
284 books414 followersRobert Bly was an American poet, author, activist and leader of the Mythopoetic Men's Movement.
Robert Bly was born in western Minnesota in 1926 to parents of Norwegian stock. He enlisted in the Navy in 1944 and spent two years there. After one year at St. Olaf College in Minnesota, he transferred to Harvard and thereby joined the famous group of writers who were undergraduates at that time, which included Donald Hall, Adrienne Rich, Kenneth Koch, John Ashbery, Harold Brodky, George Plimpton, and John Hawkes. He graduated in 1950 and spent the next few years in New York living, as they say, hand to mouth.
Beginning in 1954, he took two years at the University of Iowa at the Writers Workshop along with W. D. Snodgrass, Donald Justice, and others. In 1956 he received a Fulbright grant to travel to Norway and translate Norwegian poetry into English. While there he found not only his relatives but the work of a number of major poets whose force was not present in the United States, among them Pablo Neruda, Cesar Vallejo, Gunnar Ekelof, Georg Trakl and Harry Martinson. He determined then to start a literary magazine for poetry translation in the United States and so begin The Fifties and The Sixties and The Seventies, which introduced many of these poets to the writers of his generation, and published as well essays on American poets and insults to those deserving. During this time he lived on a farm in Minnesota with his wife and children.
In 1966 he co-founded American Writers Against the Vietnam War and led much of the opposition among writers to that war. When he won the National Book Award for The Light Around the Body, he contributed the prize money to the Resistance. During the 70s he published eleven books of poetry, essays, and translations, celebrating the power of myth, Indian ecstatic poetry, meditation, and storytelling. During the 80s he published Loving a Woman in Two Worlds, The Wingéd Life: Selected Poems and Prose of Thoreau,The Man in the Black Coat Turns, and A Little Book on the Human Shadow.
His work Iron John: A Book About Men is an international bestseller which has been translated into many languages. He frequently does workshops for men with James Hillman and others, and workshops for men and women with Marion Woodman. He and his wife Ruth, along with the storyteller Gioia Timpanelli, frequently conduct seminars on European fairy tales. In the early 90s, with James Hillman and Michael Meade, he edited The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart, an anthology of poems from the men's work. Since then he has edited The Darkness Around Us Is Deep: Selected Poems of William Stafford, and The Soul Is Here for Its Own Joy, a collection of sacred poetry from many cultures.
Robert Bly was born in western Minnesota in 1926 to parents of Norwegian stock. He enlisted in the Navy in 1944 and spent two years there. After one year at St. Olaf College in Minnesota, he transferred to Harvard and thereby joined the famous group of writers who were undergraduates at that time, which included Donald Hall, Adrienne Rich, Kenneth Koch, John Ashbery, Harold Brodky, George Plimpton, and John Hawkes. He graduated in 1950 and spent the next few years in New York living, as they say, hand to mouth.
Beginning in 1954, he took two years at the University of Iowa at the Writers Workshop along with W. D. Snodgrass, Donald Justice, and others. In 1956 he received a Fulbright grant to travel to Norway and translate Norwegian poetry into English. While there he found not only his relatives but the work of a number of major poets whose force was not present in the United States, among them Pablo Neruda, Cesar Vallejo, Gunnar Ekelof, Georg Trakl and Harry Martinson. He determined then to start a literary magazine for poetry translation in the United States and so begin The Fifties and The Sixties and The Seventies, which introduced many of these poets to the writers of his generation, and published as well essays on American poets and insults to those deserving. During this time he lived on a farm in Minnesota with his wife and children.
In 1966 he co-founded American Writers Against the Vietnam War and led much of the opposition among writers to that war. When he won the National Book Award for The Light Around the Body, he contributed the prize money to the Resistance. During the 70s he published eleven books of poetry, essays, and translations, celebrating the power of myth, Indian ecstatic poetry, meditation, and storytelling. During the 80s he published Loving a Woman in Two Worlds, The Wingéd Life: Selected Poems and Prose of Thoreau,The Man in the Black Coat Turns, and A Little Book on the Human Shadow.
His work Iron John: A Book About Men is an international bestseller which has been translated into many languages. He frequently does workshops for men with James Hillman and others, and workshops for men and women with Marion Woodman. He and his wife Ruth, along with the storyteller Gioia Timpanelli, frequently conduct seminars on European fairy tales. In the early 90s, with James Hillman and Michael Meade, he edited The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart, an anthology of poems from the men's work. Since then he has edited The Darkness Around Us Is Deep: Selected Poems of William Stafford, and The Soul Is Here for Its Own Joy, a collection of sacred poetry from many cultures.
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
December 17, 2021
He was a shaman. I'm missing him already.
September 16, 2016
Between errands, I stopped at my local Goodwill to find that someone had donated an extensive collection of contemporary poetry. There were probably fifty or sixty volumes from tiny to big presses, by a few poets with whom I was familiar and many more of whom I had never heard.
I walked out with twenty books after putting eight back on the shelf to convince myself I was being sensible. I'll never know if that decision, the returning, is a regrettable one. We only get one life, however it changes.
Anyway, Bly's collection The Night Abraham Called to the Stars was among the books that left the store with me. This alone is a remarkable thing, but more remarkable was that I opened it to begin reading and found that the author had autographed my copy. The recipient, perhaps the donor of this collection, was named "Katie."
The circumstances of the acquisition of this collection are improbable, but not miraculous. I wouldn't call them spiritual. The poems themselves, however, are unquestionably so.
Bly unites the language of the West with an Eastern form of poetry to create something that walks rapidly back and forth in its own path on the brink of something incomprehensible. The mythology comes from the Talmud, the Gospels, ancient Greece, art history, the rises and falls of nations, and the life of the author.
In nearly every poem, something erupts to illuminate its opposite. Abraham calls to the stars, but they fall at the end of the night. Giordano Bruno realizes that the world is on fire when he sees a sparrow's footprint in the mud. Birth is a foretaste of war. There are too many revelations here for me to list them all, but the poetry is powerful and effective. It is about worship.
I have been thinking a great deal of religion lately. I think it often creates wreckage in the hands of politicians, salesmen, and kings. But in the hands of a poet like Bly, it speaks to something beyond the reach of our other pursuits, and resonates in at least this soul. Hopefully too in the soul of Katie and whoever else experienced the miracle of this collection of poems.
I walked out with twenty books after putting eight back on the shelf to convince myself I was being sensible. I'll never know if that decision, the returning, is a regrettable one. We only get one life, however it changes.
Anyway, Bly's collection The Night Abraham Called to the Stars was among the books that left the store with me. This alone is a remarkable thing, but more remarkable was that I opened it to begin reading and found that the author had autographed my copy. The recipient, perhaps the donor of this collection, was named "Katie."
The circumstances of the acquisition of this collection are improbable, but not miraculous. I wouldn't call them spiritual. The poems themselves, however, are unquestionably so.
Bly unites the language of the West with an Eastern form of poetry to create something that walks rapidly back and forth in its own path on the brink of something incomprehensible. The mythology comes from the Talmud, the Gospels, ancient Greece, art history, the rises and falls of nations, and the life of the author.
In nearly every poem, something erupts to illuminate its opposite. Abraham calls to the stars, but they fall at the end of the night. Giordano Bruno realizes that the world is on fire when he sees a sparrow's footprint in the mud. Birth is a foretaste of war. There are too many revelations here for me to list them all, but the poetry is powerful and effective. It is about worship.
I have been thinking a great deal of religion lately. I think it often creates wreckage in the hands of politicians, salesmen, and kings. But in the hands of a poet like Bly, it speaks to something beyond the reach of our other pursuits, and resonates in at least this soul. Hopefully too in the soul of Katie and whoever else experienced the miracle of this collection of poems.
December 11, 2024
A pretty good place to start with Bly if you are looking to get into him. The ghazal form is pleasant enough and pretty accessible, though there are time were I think a poem suffers from a stanza that doesn't quite hold up. This collection also expects a lot from the reader in terms of allusions to western/religious literature. Even without those reference though, there are still some pretty stellar stanzas, even if there were only a couple poems that stood out to me as a whole as being heckin good.
March 26, 2017
My favorite excerpts from a maddening but compelling poet, Robert Bly, from “The Night Abraham Called to the Stars.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s strange that our love of Beauty should lead us to hell.
I caught one glimpse of you, and a moment later
My house and books were all thrown into the fire.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Men and women spend only a moment in Paradise.
The two lovers watch Charlie Chaplin eat his shoe,
And a moment later find themselves barefooted in the grave.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I know how much ruin love can bring.
But at night I hang around the orchard
Hoping to catch one breath from the lovers’ tree.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Men and women spend only a moment Paradise.
Then a trap-door sends them down to the Lords of misreason,
Where baby kangaroos carry us all off in their small pouches.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jabir the Brilliant at fourteen could arrange sounds so they became holy.
Friends, each day I crawl over and kiss some of the books I love.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In our messy world, we all walk backward,
Each holding a potato that points to the grave,
The night of infidelity and longing goes on forever.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Don’t bother to associate poets with saints
Or extraordinary beings. People like us have already
Hired someone to weep for our parents.
------------------------------------------------------------------
The door leads inward to silent wives and husbands.
------------------------------------------------------------------
My poems are sad. How could it be otherwise?
The judge and the criminal live in my own house.
I come constantly upon secret court proceedings.
------------------------------------------------------------------
The growing soul longs for mastery, but
The small men inside pull it into misery.
It is the nature of shame to have many children.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Wherever there is water there is someone drowning.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I am still a mouse nibbling the chocolate of sadness.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The Difficult Word
The oaks reluctantly let their leaves fall,
And hesitatingly allow their branches to be bare;
And the bear spends all winter in separation.
The beauty of marriage is such that it dissolves
All earlier unions, and leads man and wife
To walk together on the road to separation.
It’s a difficult word. The thought frightens us
That this planet with all its darkening geese
Was created not for union but for separation.
Suppose there were a dragon curled inside each drop
Of water, defending its gold. It’s possible
That abundance has the same effect as separation.
We all knew nothing of this when we floated
In the joy of the womb; but when our lips touched
Our mother’s breast, we said, “This is separation.”
It is my longing to smooth the feathers
Of brown birds, and to touch the side of horses
That has led me to spend my life in separation.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The poet, Robert Bly, asks: Are you “still a mouse nibbling the chocolate of sadness.”?
My response: No, I am “a lion feasting on the strawberries of delight.”
How would you respond?
--------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s strange that our love of Beauty should lead us to hell.
I caught one glimpse of you, and a moment later
My house and books were all thrown into the fire.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Men and women spend only a moment in Paradise.
The two lovers watch Charlie Chaplin eat his shoe,
And a moment later find themselves barefooted in the grave.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I know how much ruin love can bring.
But at night I hang around the orchard
Hoping to catch one breath from the lovers’ tree.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Men and women spend only a moment Paradise.
Then a trap-door sends them down to the Lords of misreason,
Where baby kangaroos carry us all off in their small pouches.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jabir the Brilliant at fourteen could arrange sounds so they became holy.
Friends, each day I crawl over and kiss some of the books I love.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In our messy world, we all walk backward,
Each holding a potato that points to the grave,
The night of infidelity and longing goes on forever.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Don’t bother to associate poets with saints
Or extraordinary beings. People like us have already
Hired someone to weep for our parents.
------------------------------------------------------------------
The door leads inward to silent wives and husbands.
------------------------------------------------------------------
My poems are sad. How could it be otherwise?
The judge and the criminal live in my own house.
I come constantly upon secret court proceedings.
------------------------------------------------------------------
The growing soul longs for mastery, but
The small men inside pull it into misery.
It is the nature of shame to have many children.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Wherever there is water there is someone drowning.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I am still a mouse nibbling the chocolate of sadness.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The Difficult Word
The oaks reluctantly let their leaves fall,
And hesitatingly allow their branches to be bare;
And the bear spends all winter in separation.
The beauty of marriage is such that it dissolves
All earlier unions, and leads man and wife
To walk together on the road to separation.
It’s a difficult word. The thought frightens us
That this planet with all its darkening geese
Was created not for union but for separation.
Suppose there were a dragon curled inside each drop
Of water, defending its gold. It’s possible
That abundance has the same effect as separation.
We all knew nothing of this when we floated
In the joy of the womb; but when our lips touched
Our mother’s breast, we said, “This is separation.”
It is my longing to smooth the feathers
Of brown birds, and to touch the side of horses
That has led me to spend my life in separation.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The poet, Robert Bly, asks: Are you “still a mouse nibbling the chocolate of sadness.”?
My response: No, I am “a lion feasting on the strawberries of delight.”
How would you respond?
December 5, 2016
3-1/2 stars
This collection of poems purported to be in the ghazal style is interesting and I especially liked the ones in which Bly reveals the struggles of writing poetry, since I do write poetry. There does appear to be more than one style that is considered ghazal according to my findings online. There are allusions to culture, to history, to mythology, and to the Bible. I probably would have appreciated the poems more if some of the references had not been quite so oblique. I am not accusing the poet of deliberately amusing himself with the reader's efforts to understand his poems.
My favorites were: "Wanting to Steal Time," "The Wagon and the Cliff," "The Country Roads," "In Praise of Scholars," "The Raft of Green Logs," and "The Old St. Peter by Rembrandt."
This collection of poems purported to be in the ghazal style is interesting and I especially liked the ones in which Bly reveals the struggles of writing poetry, since I do write poetry. There does appear to be more than one style that is considered ghazal according to my findings online. There are allusions to culture, to history, to mythology, and to the Bible. I probably would have appreciated the poems more if some of the references had not been quite so oblique. I am not accusing the poet of deliberately amusing himself with the reader's efforts to understand his poems.
My favorites were: "Wanting to Steal Time," "The Wagon and the Cliff," "The Country Roads," "In Praise of Scholars," "The Raft of Green Logs," and "The Old St. Peter by Rembrandt."
October 17, 2010
Strange and interesting at times, confounding and mystifying at others. I honestly don't "get" most, if any, of these. Not one of my favorite collections, by any means. As an interesting side note, I bought this book for a couple of dollars at a library book store. The copy I bought is an autographed, like new, hardback, first edition. It is enscribed to Bill, with a funny cartoonish picture and signature. So I guess I'll keep it.
September 4, 2008
To be completely fair, I am not a fan of Robert Bly. This book did not change my mind.
It was a decent read and I enjoyed several of the poems, but otherwise I felt a bit empty (and not a questing sort of emptiness, either) after finishing it.
It was a decent read and I enjoyed several of the poems, but otherwise I felt a bit empty (and not a questing sort of emptiness, either) after finishing it.
August 17, 2010
This book of poems is in an intricate form called ghazal, which is the central poetic form in Islam. This is the first time that I have encountered this style of poetry and I found it fascinating to read.
March 21, 2013
I wasn't impressed with this collection as much as some of Bly's previous work. It seemed that he was trying to hard to leap with lines and images that were only marginally linked and seemingly random jumps that came too fast.
April 16, 2008
sad, painful, earthy, ecstatic, imaginal,mythic, universal...
December 8, 2013
Ah, Bly. All poems are just a way of saying Amen. These are lovely and strange. Poems to read at night under a full moon.
February 1, 2018
"When I see a book written two thousand years ago, I check to see if my name is mentioned." Robert Bly
January 16, 2025
The collection is notable for its rich tapestry of cultural and religious references. Bly weaves together elements from various traditions creating a universal spiritual landscape that transcends specific doctrines. This interfaith approach allows readers from diverse backgrounds to find resonance in his verses.
Bly's poems in this collection are characterised by their mystical imagery, philosophical depth, and profound connections to the natural world. He employs vivid and often surreal imagery to convey complex spiritual concepts, inviting contemplation on life's big questions and the nature of existence.
The ghazal form, with its repeating end words and independent couplets, provides a unique structure that Bly uses to great effect. This form allows him to create a sense of unity within each poem while exploring diverse themes and images.
One of the collection's strengths is its accessibility despite its profound themes. Bly's language is clear and evocative, making the poems approachable even for readers unfamiliar with mystical poetry or the ghazal form. "The Night Abraham Called to the Stars" is a testament to Bly's skill as a poet and his deep engagement with spiritual and philosophical ideas. It offers readers a contemplative journey through the cosmos of human experience, inviting them to ponder the mysteries of existence alongside the poet.
This collection is highly recommended for poetry enthusiasts, those interested in spiritual literature, and readers who appreciate works that challenge and expand their perspectives on life and the universe.
Bly's poems in this collection are characterised by their mystical imagery, philosophical depth, and profound connections to the natural world. He employs vivid and often surreal imagery to convey complex spiritual concepts, inviting contemplation on life's big questions and the nature of existence.
The ghazal form, with its repeating end words and independent couplets, provides a unique structure that Bly uses to great effect. This form allows him to create a sense of unity within each poem while exploring diverse themes and images.
One of the collection's strengths is its accessibility despite its profound themes. Bly's language is clear and evocative, making the poems approachable even for readers unfamiliar with mystical poetry or the ghazal form. "The Night Abraham Called to the Stars" is a testament to Bly's skill as a poet and his deep engagement with spiritual and philosophical ideas. It offers readers a contemplative journey through the cosmos of human experience, inviting them to ponder the mysteries of existence alongside the poet.
This collection is highly recommended for poetry enthusiasts, those interested in spiritual literature, and readers who appreciate works that challenge and expand their perspectives on life and the universe.
January 11, 2022
I don't read enough poetry, admittedly; but want to read more. (Most poems I read are in magazines -- Paris Review, Harpers, etc).
These poems are largely ecstatic & spiritual, and very imaginative. In that regard, they reminded me of Pessoa -- though my lack of poetry knowledge might make that comparison unfair.
They are often melancholy, and bounce between philosophical and personal, sometimes both at once. Each piece is fairly heavy, and many pack a punch. They are very controlled, and written in an Islamic form of poetry. I imagine even the form itself lends spirituality to the content.
My personal rating would be 4 1/2 stars -- rounding up to five.
These poems are largely ecstatic & spiritual, and very imaginative. In that regard, they reminded me of Pessoa -- though my lack of poetry knowledge might make that comparison unfair.
They are often melancholy, and bounce between philosophical and personal, sometimes both at once. Each piece is fairly heavy, and many pack a punch. They are very controlled, and written in an Islamic form of poetry. I imagine even the form itself lends spirituality to the content.
My personal rating would be 4 1/2 stars -- rounding up to five.
August 7, 2020
I enjoyed many, didn't understand many, partially understood many. Not everyone's cup of tea, but still rumination-worthy.
I did like that there were poems with common themes in every section. The "greedy self" theme really hit home in an ouch way.
Support your local library!
I did like that there were poems with common themes in every section. The "greedy self" theme really hit home in an ouch way.
Support your local library!
February 21, 2021
My wife bought me this book because she deemed the cover "beautiful." Yes, my wife does judge books by their cover. The content of the book was also (often) beautiful, even if some of it felt a little forced. Whenever poetry tries too hard it becomes a little disappointing, this book had a few of those moments. At the same time, it also had moments of effortless grace. So read it with that pinch of salt, as is often needed when seasoning our reading (especially of poetry).
July 3, 2021
This is one of the greatest books of poetry that I know of. Astonishing.
March 22, 2017
Fantastic, mythic, spirtual
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews