Wendell Berry

(August 5, 1934 / Henry County, Kentucky)

The Silence - Poem by Wendell Berry

Though the air is full of singing
my head is loud
with the labor of words.

Though the season is rich
with fruit, my tongue
hungers for the sweet of speech.

Though the beech is golden
I cannot stand beside it
mute, but must say

'It is golden,' while the leaves
stir and fall with a sound
that is not a name.

It is in the silence
that my hope is, and my aim.
A song whose lines

I cannot make or sing
sounds men's silence
like a root. Let me say

and not mourn: the world
lives in the death of speech
and sings there.

Topic(s) of this poem: silence

Comments about The Silence by Wendell Berry

  • Susan Williams (2/7/2018 3:46:00 PM)

    I had not read this poet before today- -I robbed myself of sitting at the feet of an extraordinary poet all this time. I shall remedy that error- -but surely he wrote more than 19 poems. (Report) Reply

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  • Dutendra Chamling (11/22/2015 2:29:00 AM)

    ....I cannot make or sing
    sounds men's silence
    like a root....

    (Report) Reply

  • Kelly Kurt (4/24/2015 12:30:00 PM)

    Wow! I loved this poem, Wendell. Thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 24, 2015

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