Ben Belitt Poems
- This Scribe, My Hand When this warm scribe, my hand, is in ...
- The Spool They splay at a bend of the road, rifles slung, the...
- Second Adam Whatsoever Adam called every living creature, ...
- An Orange in Mérida The orange-peelers of Mérida, in the ...
- On Quaking Bog for Jean Brockway When the walkers-on-water ...
- Night Piece Rise, cleanly trust, divided star, And spend ...
- Dance Piece ...at the still point, there the dance is. —T. ...
Ben Belitt (May 2, 1911 - August 17, 2003) was an American poet and translator. Besides writing poetry, he also translated several books of poetry by Pablo Neruda and Federico García Lorca from Spanish to English.
Belitt was born in New York City. He was educated at the University of Virginia, receiving a B.A. in 1932 and an M.A. in 1934, and he was a doctoral student at that university from 1934 to 1936. By the early 1940s he had taken up an appointment at Bennington College in Bennington, Vermont, where he remained for the rest of his life. A bachelor, he became a good friend of the dancer (and fellow teacher at Bennington) Bill Bales, of his wife, the actress Jo Van Fleet, and of ... more »
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Comments about Ben Belitt
...at the still point, there the dance is.
—T. S. Eliot
The errand into the maze,
Emblem, the heel's blow upon space,
Speak of the need and order the dancer's will.
But the dance is still.
For a surmise of rest, over the flight of the dial,
Between shock of the fall, shock of repose,
The flesh in its time delivered itself to the trial,
Suffrance: the lapse, the pause,
Were the will of the dance—
The movement-to-be, charmed from the shifts of the chance,
Intent on its cause.
And the terrible gift
Of the gaze, ...