Aiken in the afternoon (Journal Entry)

Sandwiched among the dreams and remembrances in my old journals, there are quotes that stuck with me from things I was reading at the time.  Here’s one from Conrad Aiken’s poem, “A Letter from Li Po,” which is well worth reading in its entirety:

“Exiled are we.  Were exiles born.  The ‘far away,’

language of desert, language of ocean, language of sky,

as of the unfathomable worlds that lie

between the apple and the eye,

these are the only words we learn to say.

Each morning we devour the unknown.  Each day

we find, and take, and spill, or spend, or lose,

a sunflower splendor of which none knows the source.”




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