Spring 1949 • Vol. XI No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 1949 |

Not to Be (Mourir)

I will not utter a complaint, neither a cry The last song has fallen On the shapeless and dark country The narrow channels of loneliness Are recalling all my lost treasures I can only see walls around me When a few misfortunes associate They may kill the greatest dream The simple dream of human hope My own picture is covered with shadows And I do not recognize it in the light I forget and I am forgotten In my prison complete is the darkness And I sink into myself As a corpse in his open grave (From Le Livre ouvert)

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.