Poems for Life (8 page)

Dear Ms. Boulanger,

Further to your letter dated March 1st regarding the book of poems which your class is compiling, I am pleased to enclose the following poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz which Ismail Merchant has asked that I forward to you:

S
ONG

Pain will cease, do not grieve, do not grieve —

Friends will return, the heart will rest, do not grieve, do not grieve —

The wound will be made whole, do not grieve, do not grieve —

Day will come forth, do not grieve, do not grieve —

The cloud will open, night will decline, do not grieve, do not grieve —

The seasons will change, do not grieve, do not grieve.

Ismail Merchant asked me to tell you: “This poem expresses the philosophy of my life. There is always a dawn that we can look forward to.”

Sincerely,

Melissa Chung

R
UTH
W. M
ESSINGER

Dear Ali:

I am honored by your invitation to help you in raising funds for the International Rescue Committee, and delighted by your request for a favorite poem.

Notice that I referred to “a” favorite; that's because I believe one can no more have a single favorite poem than your teachers can have a single favorite student. I love different poems for different reasons, in the same way that your teachers love you.

I'm sending you a copy of Robert Frost's “The Gift Outright” because it contains the elements I like best in Frost's poetry: his use of clean, simple language and commonplace imagery to evoke powerful and complex ideas and emotions. Also, it describes some of the tensions that are part of our roles as Americans and our struggle for democracy.

My best wishes go to you and your classmates on this ambitious and imaginative publishing venture.

Sincerely,

T
HE
G
IFT
O
UTRIGHT

The land was ours before we were the land's.

She was our land more than a hundred years

Before we were her people. She was ours

In Massachusetts, in Virginia,

But we were England's, still colonials,

Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,

Possessed by what we now no more possessed.

Something we were withholding made us weak

Until we found out that it was ourselves

We were withholding from our land of living,

And forthwith found salvation in surrender.

Such as we were we gave ourselves outright

(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)

To the land vaguely realizing westward,

But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,

Such as she was, such as she would become.

— Robert Frost

S
USAN
M
INOT

Dear Lauren Friedman,

I have too many favorite poems! But since this is for a good cause I will choose one. This sonnet by Mr. Keats has many things in it: fear, desire, ambition, poetic urges, love, despair and much more. Keats was as pure a poet as there was. When I read his words I feel the dead leaves inside me being stirred up; this is what good poetry does.

With hopes for your successs--

Yours,

Susan Minot

W
HEN
I H
AVE
F
EARS
T
HAT
I
MAY
C
EASE
T
O
B
E

When I have fears that I may cease to be

Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,

Before high-piled books, in charactry,

Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,

Huge cloudy symbols of romance,

And think that I may never live to trace

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love; — then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

—John Keats

J
OYCE
C
AROL
O
ATES

Onlario Review

Dear Gena Hamshaw:

I choose this poem because it is succinct, brilliant, and profound in its wisdom.

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant--

Success in Circuit lies--

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind--

Emily Dickinson

Good luck with your project!

Sincerely,

R
ON
P
ADGETT

Dear Laura,

Thank you for your letter about the project to raise money for the International Rescue Committee. I think it's great that you're helping with it, and I'm glad you invited me to choose a favorite poem for the anthology.

Actually, there are a lot of poems that could qualify as my favorite, depending on how I'm feeling at the moment. But I've picked Frank O'Hara's “A Step Away from Them,” a poem that I've loved ever since I first read it more than thirty years ago. I like the way the poem uses everyday talk to describe a real guy out walking around looking at things on his lunch hour. This is probably the first time a cheeseburger got into a poem! I also like the way the poem is both light and serious at the same time. It all makes me feel happy, as though I had been lucky enough to get to walk around with the poet.

With best wishes,

A S
TEP
A
WAY FROM
T
HEM

It's my lunch hour, so I go

for a walk among the hum-colored

cabs. First, down the sidewalk

where laborers feed their dirty

glistening torsos sandwiches

and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets

on. They protect them from falling

bricks, I guess. Then onto the

avenue where skirts are flipping

above heels and blow up over

grates. The sun is hot, but the

cabs stir up the air. I look

at bargains in wristwatches. There

are cats playing in sawdust.

On

to Times Square, where the sign

blows smoke over my head, and higher

the waterfall pours lightly. A

Negro stands in a doorway with a

toothpick, languorously agitating.

A blonde chorus girl clicks: he

smiles and rubs his chin. Everything

suddenly honks: it is 12:40 of

a Thursday.

Neon in daylight is a

great pleasure, as Edwin Denby would

write, as are light bulbs in daylight.

I stop for a cheeseburger at JULIET'S

CORNER. Giulietta Masina, wife of

Federico Fellini,
è bell' attrice
.

And chocolate malted. A lady in

foxes on such a day puts her poodle

in a cab.

There are several Puerto

Ricans on the avenue today, which