World Poetry Translation Project

Please Join My Facebook Page by CLICKING HERE Diccussions, translations and positive people at our Facebook Page How Could You Not by Galway Kinnell -- for Jane kenyon It is a day after many days of storms. Having been washed and washed, the air glitters; small heaped cumuli blow across the sky; a shower visible against the firs douses the crocuses. We knew it would happen one day this week. Now, when I learn you have died, I go to the open door and look across at New Hampshire and see that there, too, the sun is bright and clouds are making their shadowy ways along the horizon; and I think: How could it not have been today? In another room, Keri Te Kanawa is singing the Laudate Dominum of Mozart, very faintly, as if in the past, to those who once sat in the steel seat of the old mowing machine, cheerful descendent of the scythe of the grim reaper, and drew the cutter bars little reciprocating triangles through the grass to make the stalks lie down in sunshine. Could you have walked in the dark early this morning and found yourself grown completely tired of the successes and failures of medicine, of your year of pain and despair remitted briefly now and then by hope that had that leaden taste? Did you glimpse in first light the world as you loved it and see that, now, it was not wrong to die and that, on dying, you would leave your beloved in a day like paradise? Near sunrise did you loosen your hold a little? How could you not already have felt blessed for good, having these last days spoken your whole heart to him, who spoke his whole heart to you, so that in the silence he would not feel a single word was missing? How could you not have slipped into a spell, in full daylight, as he lay next to you, with his arms around you, as they have been, it must have seemed, all your life? How could your cheek not press a moment to his cheek, which presses itself to yours from now on? How could you not rise and go, with all that light at the window, those arms around you, and the sound, coming or going, hard to say, of a single-engine plane in the distance that no one else hears? Please Join My Facebook Page by CLICKING HERE

Translations for this Poem  English  Spanish  French  Italian  Portuguese  Korean  Russian  Chinese  Japanese

Poems by Galway Kinnell Oatmeal The Cellist The Perch How Could You Not After Making Love We Hear Footsteps Blackberry Eating Telephoning In Mexican Sunlight Two Seasons The Correspondence School Instructo Fergus Falling Little Sleeps-Head Sprouting Hair I Daybreak St Francis And The Sow Wait Poem Of Night

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G.K. Chesterton	Gabriela Mistral	Galway Kinnell
Gary Soto	Geoffrey Chaucer	Geoffrey Hill
Georg Trakl	George Herbert	George Sterling
Gerald Stern	Gerard M. Hopkins	Gertrude Stein
Grace Paley	Gregory Corso	Guillaume Apollinaire
Gwendolyn Brooks

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