Sunday, May 5, 2024

Shout-out to a Famous Friend

 I meant to do this during my April PAD posts, but I'm doing it now. I just want to bring to your attention Jane Hirshfield's splendid career retrospective collection of poems published last September, The Asking, from Knopf Press. Here's my Amazon review:

I have been a fan of Jane Hirshfield ever since hearing her read her poem "For What Binds Us" at the Dodge Poetry Festival twenty-some years ago. Until now she has resisted a "collected poems" volume, but finally decided it was time, and we are all the richer for it. This is a wonderful collection that spans a fifty-year career in poetry, from some of her very early work to thirty new pieces, with a generous sampling in-between of her eight previous books of poetry. Throughout these poems, her voice is clear: a passionate love for both humanity and nature, centered by her Zen training, a body of work that is stunningly beautiful with lyrical language and metaphor. In recent years she has become an even more impassioned advocate for Mother Earth, and the newer poems convey both a sense of alarm but also of hope, that things can still be all right if we only pay attention, listen, and act. Jane is truly a citizen of the world, an important voice, and one of our very best contemporary poets. Brava!

I have been friends with Jane since taking her workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival in 2011. We've kept up email correspondence over the years, and I've seen her occasionally at poetry events. She has been a source of inspiration, encourgement and advice, and she is a patient, centered and compassionate person, a "good soul," as they say, not to mention a brilliant poet, translator and essayist. I'm blessed to know her. Here is one of the new poems from her collection:

TO BE A PERSON
by Jane Hirshfield
To be a person is an untenable proposition.
Odd of proportion,
upright,
unbalanced of body, feeling, and mind.
Two predator’s eyes
face forward,
yet seem always to be trying to look back.
Unhooved, untaloned fingers
seem to grasp mostly grief and pain.
To create, too often, mostly grief and pain.
Some take,
in witnessed suffering, pleasure.
Some make, of witnessed suffering, beauty.
On the other side —
a creature capable of blushing,
who chooses to spin until dizzy,
likes what is shiny,
demands to stay awake even when sleepy.
Learns what is basic, what acid,
what are stomata, nuclei, jokes,
which birds are flightless.
Learns to play four-handed piano.
To play, when it is needed, one-handed piano.
Hums. Feeds strays.
Says, “All together now, on three.”
To be a person may be possible then, after all.
Or the question may be considered still at least open —
an unused drawer, a pair of waiting workboots.
(From The Asking: New and Selected Poems, by Jane Hirshfield, Knopf Press, 2023. Used with permission of the author.)

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/715681/the-asking-by-jane-hirshfield/


No comments: