Fall 1979 • Vol. I No. 4 PoetryOctober 1, 1979 |

The Mind Is Still

The mind is still. The gallant books of lies are never quite enough. Ideas are a whirl of mazy flies over the pigs' trough. Words are my matter. I have chipped one stonefor thirty years and still it is not done, that image of the thing I cannot see. I cannot finish it and set it free,    transformed to energy. I chip and stutter but I do not sing the truth, like any bird. Daily I come to Judgment stammering the same half-word. So what's the matter? I can understand that stone is heavy in the hand. Ideas flit like flies above the swill; I crowd with other pigs to get my fill;    the mind is still.

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Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018) was the author of numerous novels, volumes of short stories, collections of essays, books for children, volumes of poetry and translation, and received many honors and awards including Hugo, Nebula, National Book Award, PEN-Malamud.

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By Ursula K. Le Guin

The mind is still. The gallant books of lies are never quite enough. Ideas are a whirl of mazy flies over the pigs' trough. Words are my matter. I have […]

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