Henry-Braun-Obituary

Henry Braun

New York, New York

About

LOCATION
New York, New York

Obituary

Send Flowers

1930 - 2014Henry Braun (1930-2014) WELD, MAINE - Henry Braun of Weld passed away on Saturday, Oct. 11, 2014. Henry was a poet, teacher, anti-war activist, husband, father, grandfather, loyal friend and very sweet man. Born in Olean, N.Y. in 1930, he attended the University of Buffalo...

Read More

Guest Book

Not sure what to say?

I was Henry's student for a time in Philadelphia. His example was as important as his kindness was remarkable. I have very fond memories of a huge party he & Joan threw in their loft at 4th & Brown. Fly on blythe spirit!

Gus & Henry, Great MotherConference 6/11/2004

I agree with Joseph Cruse, “Tears are the healing feeling.” In my opinion, grief-work's important because it brings comfort and joy. I'd rather have the pain than be numb. May you find comfort in these, my favorite lines from Brahms Requiem.
Selig sind die da Leid tragen, denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Blessed are they that mourn for they shall have comfort.
—Matthew 5.4
Die mit Träen säen, werden mit Freuden ernten.
They that sow tears shall reap joy.
—Psalm...

What a wonderful, sweet man and his poetry is beyond awesome.

V

Please accept my condolences, I am sincerely sorry for your loss. May the words of Christ Jesus found at Matthew 11:28,29 & 30 be of comfort to you.

-Pearl Miller

Henry was the sweetest, kindest, most loving person we ever knew. He also was a passionate and dedicated activist with a spine of steel. He touched and changed the lives of many people, including ours. Henry not only taught poetry and literature, but also simplicity, generosity, love of life and people, and how to grow a larger heart. There is an empty place in the universe. This good gentle giant of a human being is irreplaceable.

I forgot to add!!! (addled brained me) a poem for Henry!!!!!! You
Me
Happy
We!

Henry was a mitzvah to the world entire, a true abiding light, a woodland sprite who spread nothing but delight, he was our dodo-bumbum, our sweet, gentle friend. Henry is not dead, he is not gone, he lives in all of us who loved him so, and in every beautiful kiss from mother nature, that sweet sunset, that zephyr breeze, those stars wandering around, just twinkling, just winking at us all.

The story of its roll down here
to this surprising presence,
its ride with the field of stones
that made Maine hard to farm, and again hard,
is soon told.
I take this boulder for a landmark
and pass by
in the deep woods on my road to friends.

Love to Henry from Pat Onion