Louise Glück
Everything is change, he said, and everything is connected.Also everything returns, but what returns is notwhat went away— — Louise Glück, Winter Recipes from the Collective (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2021)
Everything is change, he said, and everything is connected.Also everything returns, but what returns is notwhat went away— — Louise Glück, Winter Recipes from the Collective (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2021)
Everything is change, he said, and everything is connected.Also everything returns, but what returns is notwhat went away— — Louise Glück, Winter Recipes from the Collective (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2021)
death cannot harm memore than you have harmed me,my beloved life. — Louise Glück, from “October,” Averno: Poems. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; Reprint edition February 6, 2007)
Hyacinth 1Is that an attitude for a flower, to standlike a club at the walk; poor slain boy,is that a way to showgratitude to the gods? Whitewith colored hearts, the tall flowerssway around you, all the other boys,in the cold spring, as the violets open. 2There were no flowers in antiquitybut boys’ bodies,… Continue reading Louise Glück
How cruel the earth, the willows shimmering,the birches bending and sighing.How cruel, how profoundly tender. – Louise Glück, from “Lament,” Poems 1962-2012. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; First Edition edition (November 13, 2012)
Do you daresend me away as thoughyou were waiting for something better? There is no better. […] Only (softly, fiercely)the stars shining. Here,in the room, the bedroom.Saying I was brave, I resisted,I set myself on fire. — Louise Glück, from “Stars,” The Seven Ages. (Ecco; Reprint edition March 26, 2002) Originally published 2000.
In the other life, your despair just turns into silence. — Louise Glück, from “Olive Trees,” A Village Life: Poems. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux July 8, 2014)
We look at the world once, in childhood.The rest is memory ― Louise Glück, from “Nostos,” Poems 1962-2012. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux November 5, 2013) Originally January 1st 2012.
We’ve been apart too long, too painfully separated.How can you bear to dream, — Louise Glück, from section V “Night Song,” of “Marathon,” The First Four Books of Poems (Ecco, 1995)
I was a winged obsessive, my moonlitfeathers were paper. I lived hardly at all among men and women; I spoke only to angels. How fortunate my days,how charged and meaningful the nights’ continuous silence and opacity. — Louise Glück, from “Ancient Text,” The Seven Ages. (Ecco; Reprint edition March 26, 2002) Originally published 2000.