I’m touched and honored to share Caroline Donnola’s new poem.

For Harry

He was the poet laureate of the Battenkill,

breathing in the soft, sweet air,

gently placing his line

in the frigid waters,

his ongoing quest

for that elusive fish

that circles the shadows

as if to taunt.

Later in the day

with pen and pad in hand

he is poised to write about

the morning fog

the afternoon rain

or the evening hum

of frogs who insist

on having their say.

After the heavy sun has set

and the fish have begun to sleep,

the poet laureate of the Battenkill

will dream of the coming day’s angling

while the river trout

glide through icy waters,

plotting new ways

to keep their poet at bay.

Caroline Donnola, June 2019

 

This poem was recited/sung by Mikhail Gorbachev at the close of the wonderful interview-documentary Meeting Gorbachev.

Alone I set out on the road;
The flinty path is sparkling in the mist;
The night is still. The desert harks to God,
And star with star converses.

The vault is overwhelmed with solemn wonder
The earth in cobalt aura sleeps. . .
Why do I feel so pained and troubled?
What do I harbor: hope, regrets?

I see no hope in years to come,
Have no regrets for things gone by.
All that I seek is peace and freedom!
To lose myself and sleep!

But not the frozen slumber of the grave…
I’d like eternal sleep to leave
My life force dozing in my breast
Gently with my breath to rise and fall;

By night and day, my hearing would be soothed
By voices sweet, singing to me of love.
And over me, forever green,
A dark oak tree would bend and rustle.

By Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov (1841)

This poem was recited/sung by Mikhail Gorbachev at the close of the wonderful interview-documentary Meeting Gorbachev.

Alone I set out on the road;
The flinty path is sparkling in the mist;
The night is still. The desert harks to God,
And star with star converses.

The vault is overwhelmed with solemn wonder
The earth in cobalt aura sleeps. . .
Why do I feel so pained and troubled?
What do I harbor: hope, regrets?

I see no hope in years to come,
Have no regrets for things gone by.
All that I seek is peace and freedom!
To lose myself and sleep!

But not the frozen slumber of the grave…
I’d like eternal sleep to leave
My life force dozing in my breast
Gently with my breath to rise and fall;

By night and day, my hearing would be soothed
By voices sweet, singing to me of love.
And over me, forever green,
A dark oak tree would bend and rustle.

By Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov (1841)