Vinegar and Oil Poem by Jane Hirshfield

Vinegar and Oil



Wrong solitude vinegars the soul,
right solitude oils it.

How fragile we are, between the few good moments.

Coming and going unfinished,
puzzled by fate,

like the half-carved relief
of a fallen donkey, above a church door in Finland.

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Jane Hirshfield

Jane Hirshfield

New York / United States
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