Ocupation: Poet
Life: May 25, 1908 - August 1, 1963
Birthday: May 25
Death: August 1
I have come to a still, but not a deep center, A point outside the glittering current; My eyes stare at the bottom of a river, At the irregular stones, iridescent sandgrains, My mind moves in more than one place, In a country half-land, half-water. I am renewed by death, thought of my death, The dry scent of a dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, Always, in earth and air.
topic: Country, Moving, Eye, Iridescent