by Yves Bonnefoy
And then the day came
When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats,
The evocation of Ruth “when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.”
I did not need to search for the meaning
Of these words,
For it was in me since childhood,
I had only to recognize and to love it
When it came back from the depths of my life.
What could I take
From the evasive maternal presence
If not the feeling of exile and tears
That clouded that gaze searching to find
In things close by the place forever lost?
Last updated May 02, 2015