Author: Louise Gluck

At the end of my suffering There was a door. Hear me out: that which you call death I remember. […]

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived To revenge myself Against my father, not For what he was For what […]

Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know What despair is; then Winter should have meaning for […]

What does the horse give you That I cannot give you? I watch you when you are alone, When you […]

A man and a woman lie on a white bed. It is morning. I think Soon they will waken. On […]

Requiring something lovely on his arm Took me to Stamford, Connecticut, a quasi-farm, His family’s; later picking up the mammoth […]

How can you say Earth should give me joy? Each thing Born is my burden; I cannot succeed With all […]

I regret bitterly The years of loving you in both Your presence and absence, regret The law, the vocation That […]

Remember the days of our first happiness, How strong we were, how dazed by passion, Lying all day, then all […]

In our family, there were two saints, My aunt and my grandmother. But their lives were different. My grandmother’s was […]

The garden admires you. For your sake it smears itself with green pigment, The ecstatic reds of the roses, So […]

As a man and woman make A garden between them like A bed of stars, here They linger in the […]

When I made you, I loved you. Now I pity you. I gave you all you needed: Bed of earth, […]

Even now this landscape is assembling. The hills darken. The oxen Sleep in their blue yoke, The fields having been […]

In your extended absence, you permit me Use of earth, anticipating Some return on investment. I must report Failure in […]

Late December: my father and I Are going to New York, to the circus. He holds me On his shoulders […]

The nights have grown cool again, like the nights Of early spring, and quiet again. Will Speech disturb you? We’re […]

In the empty field, in the morning, The body waits to be claimed. The spirit sits beside it, on a […]

Night covers the pond with its wing. Under the ringed moon I can make out Your face swimming among minnows […]

Speak to me, aching heart: what Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself Weeping in the dark garage With your […]

I never turned anyone into a pig. Some people are pigs; I make them Look like pigs. I’m sick of […]

I’ll tell you something: every day People are dying. And that’s just the beginning. Every day, in funeral homes, new […]

What can I tell you that you don’t know That will make you tremble again? Forsythia By the roadside, by […]

As I perceive I am dying now and know I will not speak again, will not Survive the earth, be […]

The great thing Is not having A mind. Feelings: Oh, I have those; they Govern me. I have A lord […]

To say I’m without fear It wouldn’t be true. I’m afraid of sickness, humiliation. Like anyone, I have my dreams. […]

Little soul, little perpetually undressed one, Do now as I bid you, climb The shelf-like branches of the spruce tree; […]

There is always something to be made of pain. Your mother knits. She turns out scarves in every shade of […]

In the story of Patroclus No one survives, not even Achilles Who was nearly a god. Patroclus resembled him; they […]

My mother’s an expert in one thing: Sending people she loves into the other world. The little ones, the babies […]