Guest poem sent in by Barbara Kay Bosserman
(Poem #1702) Untitled My way is in the sand flowing between the shingle and the dune the summer rain rains on my life, on me my life harrying fleeing to its beginning to its end My peace is there in the receding mist when I may cease from treading these long shifting thresholds and live the space of a door that opens and shuts je suis ce cour de sable qui glisse entre le galet et le dune le pluie d'etre pleur sur ma vie sur moi ma vie qui me fuit me poursuit et finira le jour de son commencement cher instant je te vois dan ce rideau de brume qui recule ou je n'aurai plus a fouler ces long seuils mouvants et vivrai le temps d'une porte qui s'ouvre et se referme |
(1948, from "Collected Poems in English and French") My first encounter with this poem was as an undergraduate back in the mid-eighties. Although I almost never studied in the library, the effect of upcoming finals on the temper of my normally pleasant roommate induced me to study there one semester. I ended up near the poetry section more by accident than design. Bored by whatever I was supposed to be studying, I happened to see an old, thin volume of poems which I started flipping through. Twenty years later, I can't remember much from any of my classes, but I can still recite several of those poems (the English versions anyway) from memory. Back then, I would have been certain I knew the poem's meaning. Now, I'll just say that I like how it sounds when recited aloud, its sea imagery, and the fact that -- while it seems to acknowledge life's futility (those long shifting thresholds), when I read it I feel some ultimate sense of rightness about everything. Beckett is, of course, better known as a playwright than a poet. His most famous work is Waiting for Godot. Barbara Kay Bosserman [Links] Biography: http://www.samuel-beckett.net/speople.html The parent site is a good collection of Beckett links: http://www.samuel-beckett.net/
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