Giuseppe Ungaretti, “My House”
I believe I have located a parallel in Ungaretti’s “My House” and a verse from Heidegger’s “The Thinker as Poet” which may b...
Category: poetry
Giuseppe Ungaretti, “Eternal”
The inexpressible nothing. It is meant in a lovely way, encapsulating an affectionate gesture. But it bridges two complicated realities hinted in the gesture. &...
Giuseppe Ungaretti, “A Dove”
To speak of hope or possibility in these times looks foolish, if not dangerous. Plenty will say any advocacy for change risks disproportionate response from tho...
Eavan Boland, “A Habitable Grief”
This is what language is: a habitable grief. Reading those words back to myself, I struggle to understand how they apply to the current situation. I watched a g...
Emily Dickinson, “As willing lid o’er weary eye” (1050)
Lately, I have not been looking at nature too closely. It feels a blur of bugs and heat, an encompassing disorder I must move through. At this moment, though, I...