This is the full of summer, this is all
Bold bumblebees have always dreamed about;
This floating is my rise that has no fall;
This steadiness my in that has no out.
And this my body's happiness -- the call
Persuading me to pause deep in today
As purple clover scents the swaying air
Bold bumblebees have always dreamed about.
I watch more ripeness ripening the way
A whirling orange blur of oriole
Blends with lake water blazing everywhere;
A hummingbird suspended at a rose
As if in mimic of the sun whose flare
Holds her eternal moment in my mind.
This is my opening that has no close;
This is my now with then now left behind
And icy wind a thought thought can forestall:
This is the full of summer, this is all.
....at a friends place....
taking a few holidays...
(born New York, NY, May 19, 1929) is an American poet and critic,
In 1957 Pack was awarded a Fulbright Fellowship to Italy to translate poetry.
During his year abroad, he traveled extensively, attending opera performances.
Later he would publish translations of the Mozart librettos, and the figure of Mozart --
along with other beloved figures, such as Darwin, Freud, and Einstein -- appear throughout his poetry.
Pack, as always, exhibits a technical mastery that has all but disappeared from recent poetry.
His meters have relaxed, creating an unusual suppleness and ease in his recounting of family anecdotes,
and they have veered further than ever from those of his old master, Robert Frost. by Mark Strand