After Frost Poem by Robert Creeley
After Frost
He comes here
by whatever way he can,
not too late,
not too soon.
He sits, waiting.
He doesn't know
why he should
have such a patience.
He sits at a table
on a chair.
He is comfortable
sitting there.
No one else
in this room,
no others, no expectations,
no sounds.
Had he walked
another way,
would he be here,
like they say.
Creeley is a modern master. He forces you to look at words differently and then forces you to rethink your own values. “For Love” is a unique book. The continuous irony is at times painful but accurate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 3:53:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Creeley is a modern master. He forces you to look at words differently and then forces you to rethink your own values. “For Love” is a unique book. The continuous irony is at times painful but accurate.