Li-Young Lee Poems
|2.||Arise, Go Down||3/11/2015|
|4.||Dreaming Of Hair||1/13/2003|
|5.||Early In The Morning||1/13/2003|
|8.||For A New Citizen Of These United States||1/13/2003|
|10.||I Ask My Mother To Sing||1/13/2003|
|16.||Out Of Hiding||1/13/2003|
|18.||The City In Which I Loved You||1/13/2003|
|19.||The Father's House||1/13/2003|
|23.||This Hour And What Is Dead||1/13/2003|
|24.||This Room And Everything In It||1/13/2003|
|25.||Visions And Interpretations||1/13/2003|
Sad is the man who is asked for a story
and can't come up with one.
His five-year-old son waits in his lap.
Not the same story, Baba. A new one.
The man rubs his chin, scratches his ear.
In a room full of books in a world
of stories, he can recall
not one, and soon, he thinks, the boy
will give up on his father.
Already the man lives far ahead, he sees
the day this boy will go. Don't go!
Hear the alligator story! The angel story once more!
You love the spider story. You laugh at the spider.
Let me tell it!
But the boy is packing his ...
The Father's House
Here, as in childhood, Brother, no one knows us.
And someone has died, and someone is not yet
born, while our father walks through his church at night
and sets all the clocks for spring. His sleeplessness
weighs heavy on my forehead, his death almost
nothing. in the only letter he wrote to us