Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
A beautiful poem of life events in its sorrow and loss situations and I felt it very interesting.
......a very creative write....never heard this music before.... ~Music of hair, Music of pain, music of looms weaving all our loves again.~
A marvelous poem with a meaningful message adorned with great images.
Wait, yes I agree, but wait for what? If learning to wait teaches you to be patient, then there is some virtue. Trying to see renewed beauty in old possessions-that is possible. That can apply to lovers who tire of each other at times. See it through with that person, don't discard them. I come back to my original question, though: 'Wait for what? '
A poignant rendition well articulated and nicely brought forth with conviction. An insightful work of art............................
liked it so much.............not to give up soon..............waiting can be interesting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This has always been a favorite Kinnell poem of mine. The imagery is rich and the advice the speaker gives the younger person who is contemplating suicide is so practical 'Wait' and even 'Distrust everything, if you have to./ But trust the hours. Haven't they/ carried ' to this point and won't they carry the young person from this point onward. A beautiful poem!