WE ARE ALL THE SNOW MEN
(Homage to Wallace Stevens)
We are all the snow men
Minor would- be Poets
Listening in the distant glitter
To the poem someone else has written
Far better than us.
We are all the quiet readers
Connecting our eyes and ears with images
Finer than those
We can ourselves fantasize:
The ‘junipers shagged with ice’
And ‘the spruces rough in the distant glitter’
We are all minor makers of our own nothingness
Beside the Great Poets who find a music of the soul
We seek and strive for and never find.
We are all the lesser snow men
Out in the cold of our own small minds
Shivering to death in the unending winter
of our own frosted souls
While the great long-lines rise up in flight
And go by
Beyond ‘ambiguous undulations’
A fierce parting light
Our bare selves
strain to surmise and survive.
'We are all the lesser snow men Out in the cold of our own small minds Shivering to death in the unending winter' call them what you may, call they whatever you wish, call them what they are great lines
We are all minor makers of our own nothingness Beside the Great Poets who find a music of the soul We seek and strive for and never find.' a glimpse, a breath upon the brew, a whisper in the wind, is enough to sooth any poet's heart, when the sun shines, glitters upon leaves in trees, as the hot sun cools
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A Crisp Glimpse Into Leaf Glitter a glimpse a fingernail of light at dawn a breath a single breath a breath upon the brow a whisper a whisper almost heard a whisper in the wind is enough is enough to sooth is enough to sooth a poet's heart when the sun shines glitters upon leaves in trees as the hot sun cools Inspired by the poem 'We Are All The Snow Men' by the poet Shalom Freedman. Dedicated to the poet Shalom Freedman.