Poems for Life (10 page)

Have a good summer and thanks.

From
Le Spleen de Paris

XXXIII

G
ET
Y
OURSELF
D
RUNK

Always be drunk. That's all there is to it: nothing else matters. If you don't want to feel the horrible burden of Time crushing your shoulders and forcing you down, you have to get yourself drunk and not stop.

Drunk with what? With wine, with poetry, with virtue, with whatever works best. Just get yourself drunk.

And if you ever wake up on the front steps of some palace, on the green grass of some ditch, in the lonely gloom of your room, and find that inebriation has faded or disappeared, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, anything that flees, anything that moans, anything that moves, anything that sings, anything that speaks — ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, will answer: “Time to get yourselves drunk! If you don't want to be the martyred slaves of Time, go get yourselves drunk, get yourselves drunk and don't stop. With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, with whatever works best.”

— Charles Baudelaire

G
ENE
S
AKS

Dear Erica,

Here is a poem which made a deep impression on me and which I'll always remember. It's by Siegfried Sassoon, an English poet who fought and was decorated and wounded in the first Great World War, 1914–18. I think of it as the most meaningful anti-war poem I've ever read.

D
OES
I
T
M
ATTER?

Does it matter? — losing your legs? …

For people will always be kind,

And you need not show that you mind

When others come in after hunting

To gobble their muffins and eggs.

Does it matter — losing your sight? …

There's such splendid work for the blind;

And people will always be kind,

As you sit on the terrace remembering

And turning your face to the light.

Do they matter — those dreams from the pit? …

You can drink and forget and be glad,

And people won't say that you're mad;

For they'll know that you've fought for your country,

And no one will worry a bit.

— Siegfried Sassoon

Sincerely,

D
IANE
S
AWYER

Dear Alexia,

My favorite poem is “If” by Rudyard Kipling. I know it's a little old-fashioned, but it certainly helps when you need a poem as a friend — whether you're “my son” or
“my
daughter.“

Sincerely,

I
F
—

you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;

If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim:

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!“

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And — which is more — you'll be a Man, my son!

— Rudyard Kipling

W
HITNEY
N
ORTH
S
EYMOUR
J
R
.

To The Nightingale-Bamford School:

This is one of my favorite poems because it confirms the importance of spending time with nature to give beauty and balance to your life. There is nothing more refreshing to the spirit than a walk in the country — whether in the woods or across fields or even along red-rock canyons of the Southwest.

Sincerely,

F
ROM
“I
NSCRIPTION FOR THE
E
NTRANCE TO A
W
OOD
”

Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs

No school of long experience, that the world

Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen

Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,

To tire thee of it, enter the wild wood

And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade

Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze

That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm

To thy sick heart.

— William Cullen Bryant

A
LLY
S
HEEDY

Dear Fernanda Winthrop and Class V of

The Nightingale-Bamford School:

Thank you for asking me to be a part of the project
Lifelines
. It's an honor. I should say the project inspired by
Lifelines
, I suppose, which was a beautiful gesture to aid needy people and children in Africa. Because your project focuses on the International Rescue Committee to benefit refugee children I chose a poem which I feel speaks to the possibilities of life. It is by my favorite poet, Alice Walker. I think she speaks to the potential transformation we all have inside ourselves. The poem also expresses a hunger for spiritual liberation and a deep love for Life.

A poem of Ms. Walker's must be included in this collection because she is such an inspiring, heroic figure to people all over the world: a beautiful writer, a political figure, a strong proponent for change. Thank you once again for this opportunity.

Sincerely,