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Skipping StonesAlone with the blue lakeI'm skipping stones, playing with waves A blue stone cuts across the sky White water rises shining into the air The stone gives supple wings to the waves Or perhaps the waves make the stone fly Playing my childhood game I meet my vanished youth again As they chase each other under and over The waves laugh, the stones leap in the lake If only I could gather my loneliness Into this stone and make my sorrow joy (translated by Martha Collins and Thuy Dinh) |
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Issue #21, July, 2001 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.