American Literature · Asian Culture · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Li-Young Lee

Look at the birds. Even flying is born out of nothing. The first sky is inside you, Friend, open at either end of day. The work of wings was always freedom, fastening one heart to every falling thing. — Li-Young Lee, from “One Heart,” Book of My Nights. (BOA Editions Ltd.; 1 edition September 1,… Continue reading Li-Young Lee

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American Literature · Asian Culture · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Li-Young Lee

Pillow There’s nothing I can’t find under there. Voices in the trees, the missing pages of the sea. Everything but sleep. And night is a river bridging the speaking and listening banks, a fortress, undefended and inviolate. There’s nothing that won’t fit under it: fountains clogged with mud and leaves, the houses of my childhood.… Continue reading Li-Young Lee

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American Literature · Asian Culture · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Li-Young Lee

Once, years back, I walked beside my father among the windfall pears. I can’t recall our words. We may have strolled in silence. But I still see him bend that way—left hand braced on knee, creaky—to lift and hold to my eye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet spun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening… Continue reading Li-Young Lee

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