I like this poem by Jane Hirschfield, especially the opening line. It is published in this month's Atlantic Magazine.
Vinegar and Oil
Wrong solitude vinegars the soul,
right solitude oils it.
How fragile we are, between the few good moments.
Coming and going unfinished,
puzzled by fate,
like the half-carved relief
of a fallen donkey, above a church door in Finland.
2 comments :
Hi, you don't know me, but I just read the same poem above and enjoyed it just as much as you seem to have. I don't understand the last line, though, and I can't find anything online that describes what the author is talking about with the church door in Finland. Is the picture you put next to it the carving the poem is talking about and if so, what is it? Thanks, Andrew.
Oh, sorry, if you respond, could you send it to amguner@yahoo.com.
Post a Comment