She Walks in Beauty Read online

  with bare feet the all-night dances,

  tossing my head for joy

  in the damp air, in the dew,

  as a running fawn might frisk

  for the green joy of the wide fields,

  free from fear of the hunt,

  free from the circling beaters

  and the nets of woven mesh

  and the hunters hallooing on

  their yelping packs? And then, hard pressed,

  she sprints with the quickness of wind,

  bounding over the marsh, leaping

  to frisk, leaping for joy,

  gay with the green of the leaves,

  to dance for joy in the forest,

  to dance where the darkness is deepest, where no man is.

  What is wisdom? What gift of the gods

  is held in honor like this:

  to hold your hand victorious

  over the heads of those you hate?

  Honor is precious forever.

  Slow but unmistakable

  the might of the gods moves on.

  It punishes that man,

  infatuate of soul

  and hardened in his pride,

  who disregards the gods.

  The gods are crafty:

  they lie in ambush

  a long step of time

  to hunt the unholy.

  Beyond the old beliefs,

  no thought, no act shall go.

  Small, small is the cost

  to believe in this:

  whatever is god is strong:

  whatever long time has sanctioned,

  that is a law forever;

  the law tradition makes

  is the law of nature.

  What is wisdom? What gift of the gods

  is held in honor like this:

  to hold your hand victorious

  over the heads of those you hate?

  Honor is precious forever.

  Blessèd is he who escapes a storm at sea,

  who comes home to his harbor.

  Blessèd is he who emerges from under affliction.

  In various ways one man outraces another in the race for wealth and power.

  Ten thousand men possess ten thousand hopes.

  A few bear fruit in happiness; the others go awry.

  But he who garners day by day the good of life, he is happiest.

  Blessèd is he.

  The Dawn

  W. B. YEATS

  I would be ignorant as the dawn

  That has looked down

  On that old queen measuring a town

  With the pin of a brooch,

  Or on the withered men that saw

  From their pedantic Babylon

  The careless planets in their courses,

  The stars fade out where the moon comes,

  And took their tablets and did sums;

  I would be ignorant as the dawn

  That merely stood, rocking the glittering coach

  Above the cloudy shoulders of the horses;

  I would be—for no knowledge is worth a straw—

  Ignorant and wanton as the dawn.

  Don’t Quit

  UNKNOWN

  When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

  When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,

  When the funds are low and the debts are high,

  And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

  When care is pressing you down a bit,

  Rest, if you must—but don’t you quit.

  Life is queer with its twists and turns,

  As everyone of us sometimes learns,

  And many a failure turns about

  When he might have won had he stuck it out;

  Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow—

  You might succeed with another blow.

  Often the goal is nearer than

  It seems to a faint and faltering man,

  Often the struggler has given up

  When he might have captured the victor’s cup.

  And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,

  How close he was to the golden crown.

  Success is failure turned inside out—

  The silver tint of the clouds of doubt—

  And you never can tell how close you are,

  It may be near when it seems afar;

  So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit—

  It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.

  All Things Pass

  LAO-TZU

  All things pass

  A sunrise does not last all morning

  All things pass

  A cloudburst does not last all day

  All things pass

  Nor a sunset all night

  All things pass

  What always changes?

  Earth . . . sky . . . thunder . . .

  mountain . . . water . . .

  wind . . . fire . . . lake . . .

  These change

  And if these do not last

  Do man’s visions last?

  Do man’s illusions?

  Take things as they come

  All things pass

  Simple Gifts

  ANONYMOUS (SHAKER HYMN)

  ’Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free,

  ’Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

  And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

  ’Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

  When true simplicity is gain’d,

  To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,

  To turn, turn will be our delight

  ’Till by turning, turning we come round right.

  24th September 1945

  NAZIM HIKMET

  The best sea: has yet to be crossed.

  The best child: has yet to be born.

  The best days: have yet to be lived;

  and the best word that I wanted to say to you

  is the word that I have not yet said.

  The Journey

  MARY OLIVER

  One day you finally knew

  what you had to do, and began,

  though the voices around you

  kept shouting

  their bad advice—

  though the whole house

  began to tremble

  and you felt the old tug

  at your ankles.

  “Mend my life!”

  each voice cried.

  But you didn’t stop.

  You knew what you had to do,

  though the wind pried

  with its stiff fingers

  at the very foundations—

  though their melancholy

  was terrible.

  It was already late

  enough, and a wild night,

  and the road full of fallen

  branches and stones.

  But little by little,

  as you left their voices behind,

  the stars began to burn

  through the sheets of clouds,

  and there was a new voice,

  which you slowly

  recognized as your own,

  that kept you company

  as you strode deeper and deeper

  into the world,

  determined to do

  the only thing you could do—

  determined to save

  the only life that you could save.

  Ithaka

  CONSTANTINE P. CAVAFY

  As you set out for Ithaka

  hope the voyage is a long one,

  full of adventure, full of discovery.

  Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

  angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:

  you’ll never find things like that on your way

  as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,

  as long as a rare excitement

  stirs your spirit and your body.

  Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

 
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them

  unless you bring them along inside your soul,

  unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

  Hope the voyage is a long one.

  May there be many a summer morning when,

  with what pleasure, what joy,

  you come into harbors seen for the first time;

  may you stop at Phoenician trading stations

  to buy fine things,

  mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

  sensual perfume of every kind—

  as many sensual perfumes as you can;

  and may you visit many Egyptian cities

  to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

  Keep Ithaka always in your mind.

  Arriving there is what you are destined for.

  But do not hurry the journey at all.

  Better if it lasts for years,

  so you are old by the time you reach the island,

  wealthy with all you have gained on the way,

  not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

  Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.

  Without her you would not have set out.

  She has nothing left to give you now.

  And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.

  Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,

  you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

  The Colder the Air

  ELIZABETH BISHOP

  We must admire her perfect aim,

  this huntress of the winter air

  whose level weapon needs no sight,

  if it were not that everywhere

  her game is sure, her shot is right.

  The least of us could do the same.

  The chalky birds or boats stand still,

  reducing her conditions of chance;

  air’s gallery marks identically

  the narrow gallery of her glance.

  The target-center in her eye

  is equally her aim and will.

  Time’s in her pocket, ticking loud

  on one stalled second. She’ll consult

  not time nor circumstance. She calls

  on atmosphere for her result.

  (It is this clock that later falls

  in wheels and chimes of leaf and cloud.)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I WOULD ESPECIALLY LIKE TO THANK Carrie Bell, Jordan Tamagni, and Bob Hughes for sending me the poems that started this book. All the other poems could not have been found without the help of the amazing Lauren Lipani. I am also grateful to my devoted friend and agent, Esther Newberg, and my editor, Gretchen Young, who makes each project more rewarding than the one before.

  This book would not have come into being without the many other people at Hyperion who worked to make it so beautiful—Shubhani Sarkar for the glorious design, David Lott and Claire McKean, who make production miracles happen on a consistent basis, Laura Klynstra for the cover design, Deirdre Smerillo for tracking down runaway poems, and Elizabeth Sabo Morick for help in countless ways. Marie Coolman and Sally McCartin have made a huge difference, and I am grateful for their commitment.

  Most of all, I would like to thank my friends and family, who make me happy to get up every morning knowing I might talk to them that day.

  CREDITS

  Kim Addonizio, “What Do Women Want?” from Tell Me. Copyright © 2000 by Kim Addonizio. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org.

  Elizabeth Alexander, “The Dream I Told My Mother-in-Law,” “The End,” and “Ode,” first appeared in American Sublime, © 2005, Graywolf Press, and subsequently in Crave Radiance, New and Selected Poems, 1990-2010, published by Graywolf Press, and are used here with the permission of Elizabeth Alexander through the Faith Childs Literary Agency, Inc.

  Ariwara No Narihara, “That is a road” from Anthology of Japanese Literature, compiled and edited by Donald Keene. Copyright © 1955 by Grove Press, Inc. Used by permission of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

  Walter Arndt, “Going Blind” in The Best of the Rilke. © University Press of New England, Lebanon, NH. Reprinted with permission.

  Margaret Atwood, “Variation on the Word Sleep” and “You Begin” used by permission of the Author. Available in the following collections: In the United States, Selected Poems II, 1976-1986, published by Houghton Mifflin, © Margaret Atwood 1987; in Canada, Selected Poems, 1966-1984, published by Oxford University Press, © Margaret Atwood 1990; in the UK, Eating Fire, published by Virago Books, © Margaret Atwood 1998. All rights reserved.

  W. H. Auden, “Leap Before You Look.” Copyright 1945 by W. H. Auden, from Collected Poems of W. H. Auden by W. H. Auden. Used by permission of Random House Inc. and The Wylie Agency (UK) Ltd.

  Ingeborg Bachmann, “A Type of Loss,” translated by Peter Filkins, from Darkness Spoken: The Collected Poems of Ingeborg Bachmann. Copyright © 1978, 2000 by Piper Verlag Gmbh, München, Translation copyright © 2006 by Peter Filkins. Reprinted with the permission of Zephyr Press, www.zephyrpress.org.

  Hilaire Belloc, “Fatigue” from Sonnets and Verses (© Hilaire Belloc 1923) is reproduced by permission of PFD (www.pfd.co.uk) on behalf of The Estate of Hilaire Belloc.

  Nguyen Ngoc Bich, “A Farmer’s Calendar,” a Vietnamese folk poem from A Thousand Years of Vietnamese Poetry (Nguyen Ngoc Bich, ed.). © The Asia Society. Reprinted with permission.

  Elizabeth Bishop, “Letter to N.Y.” and “The Colder the Air” from The Complete Poems 1927-1979. Copyright © 1979, 1983 by Alice Helen Methfessel. Reprinted with the permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC.

  Elizabeth Bishop, “It is marvellous to wake up together . . .” from Edgar Allan Poe & The Juke-Box, edited and annotated by Alice Quinn. Copyright © 2006 by Alice Helen Methfessel. Introduction copyright © 2006 by Alice Quinn. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC and Carcanet Press Limited.

  Gwendolyn Brooks, “when you have forgotten sunday: the love story” and “weaponed woman.” Reprinted with consent of Brooks Permissions.

  Raymond Carver, “Late Fragment,” originally published in A New Path to the Waterfall, currently collected in A New Path to the Waterfall and All of Us: The Collected Poems. Copyright © 1989 by Raymond Carver. Reprinted by permission of Grove/Atlantic, used in audiobooks and in ebooks in the UK with permission of The Wylie Agency LLC and in ebooks in the US with permission of Random house, Inc. Published by Harvill in the UK and reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.

  Rosemary Catacalos, “Crocheted Bag.” Used by permission of Rosemary Catacalos.

  C. P. Cavafy, “As Much As You Can” and “Ithaka” from C. P. Cavafy, © 1975 by Edmund Keeley and Phili Sherrard. Reprinted by permission from Princeton University Press.

  Amy Clampitt, “The Smaller Orchid” from The Collected Poems of Amy Clampitt. Copyright © 1997 by the Estate of Amy Clampitt. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc.

  Lucille Clifton, “lumpectomy eve” from The Terrible Stories. Copyright © 1996 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org and Curtis Brown Ltd.

  Lucille Clifton, “blessing the boats” and “to my last period” from Quilting: Poems 1987-1990. Copyright © 1991 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org.

  Wendy Cope, “From June to December” from Two Cures for Love. Reprinted by permission of United Artists on behalf of Wendy Cope and Faber & Faber Ltd.

  Gregory Corso, “Marriage,” from The Happy Birthday of Death, copyright © 1960 by New Directions Publishing Corp. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp.

  E. E. Cummings, “may I feel said he.” Copyright 1935, © 1963, 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings Trust. Copyright © 1978 by George James Firmage, “i carry your heart with me(i carry it in.” Copyright 1952, © 1980, 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings
Trust, “if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have.” Copyright 1931, © 1959, 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings Trust. Copyright © 1979 by George James Firmage, from Complete Poems: 1904-1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation.

  Dick Davis, “6 A.M. Thoughts” from Devices and Desires: New and Selected Poems 1967–1987, Published by Anvil Press Poetry in 1989.

  Emily Dickinson, “My life closed twice before its close,” “Wild Nights—Wild Nights!”, “I stepped from plank to plank,” and “The Bustle in a House,” reprinted by permission of the publishers and the Trustees of Amherst College from The Poems of Emily Dickinson, Variorum Edition, edited by Ralph W. Franklin, Cambridge, Mass. The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, Copyright © 1998 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College. Copyright © 1951, 1955, 1979, 1983 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College.

  Hilda Doolittle (HD), “Never More Will the Wind” from Collected Poems. (Carcanet Press, 1984.) Copyright 1925 Hilda Doolittle. Reprinted by permission of Carcanet Press Limited.

  Rita Dove, “Chocolate,” from American Smooth. Copyright © 2004 by Rita Dove. Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.

  Euripides, “The Bacchae Chorus” from Euripides, Complete Greek Tragedies Euripides V, translated by William Arrowsmith. Copyright © 1959 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission from University of Chicago Press.

  Gavin Ewart, “To Margo.” Reprinted with permission of Margo Ewart.

  Robert Frost, “A Minor Bird,” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1928, 1969 by Henry Holt and Company. Copyright 1956 by Robert Frost. Reprinted by permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.

  Deborah Garrison, “Worked Late on a Tuesday Night.” Copyright © 1998 by Deborah Garrison, from A Working Girl Can’t Win and Other Poems by Deborah Garrison. Used by permission of Random House, Inc.