Charles Simic Poems
|42.||The Oldest Child||1/13/2003|
|44.||The Supreme Moment||1/13/2003|
|45.||Summer In The Country||1/13/2003|
|47.||To The One Upstairs||1/13/2003|
|51.||Read Your Fate||1/13/2003|
|53.||The Partial Explanation||1/13/2003|
|54.||Talking To Little Birdies||1/13/2003|
|56.||The School Of Metaphysics||1/13/2003|
|57.||Heights Of Folly||1/13/2003|
|59.||A Book Full Of Pictures||1/13/2003|
|64.||Eyes Fastened With Pins||1/13/2003|
Comments about Charles Simic
The truth is dark under your eyelids.
What are you going to do about it?
The birds are silent; there's no one to ask.
All day long you'll squint at the gray sky.
When the wind blows you'll shiver like straw.
A meek little lamb you grew your wool
Till they came after you with huge shears.
Flies hovered over open mouth,
Then they, too, flew off like the leaves,
The bare branches reached after them in vain.
Winter coming. Like the last heroic soldier
Of a defeated army, you'll stay at your post,
Head bared to the first snow flake.
Till a neighbor ...
Here come my night thoughts
Returning from studying the heavens.
What they thought about
Stayed the same,
Stayed immense and incomprehensible.
My mother and father smile at each other
Knowingly above the mantel.