|From the book Stanzas in the Manner of Alexander Pope|
|The poet is he who wants that which everyone|
wants to want. Like a squirrel in a wheel,
he spins his imaginable destiny.
But his style, high as a threshold,
leads away from the illuminated porch
into some trans-polar region without end,
where he keeps chirring from a spear’s point
like a grasshopper in the grass of non-existence.
And if we glance sideways in that direction,
the sound itself is arbitrary as a teardrop.
Gerald S. Smith
Poet want what others wish to want.
Like squirrels turning treadmills round and round
they turn the destiny imagination forged.
Their style, high as the threshold of a door,
leads inwards from a brightly lighted hall
to some unending place beyond the poles
where everything drops from a sabre’s edge
like grasshoppers from blades of nothingness.
Look sideways, as one looks at distant stars
and sound itself comes unprovoked as tears.
The poet is one who wants what everyone
wants to want. Like a squirrel on a wheel,
he turns his imaginable fate.
But his high style is like a threshold
that leads away from an illuminated porch
in some boundless polar region
where everything twitters from the spear’s tip
like a grasshopper in the grass of oblivion.
And if we look aside at it, we’ll see
that the sound is as accidental as a tear.
Slava I. Yastremski and Michel Naydan