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Writing Is Bleak
- Hong Kong University Press, HKU
- Chapter
- Additional Information
In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:
8 Writing Is Bleak Writing is bleak, Writing in this language in this place Is doubly bleak. How the heart yearns For the Paris of Joyce, Synge, Pound, Yeats, For the camaraderie of letters In the city of letters. The cold night wore on. The North wind Riding on a country air From some distant flute Told me not to fret Over the right word Or the heart In the right place, That all things shall be well, Given time. It was singing of man’s impermanence And all his arts’. ...
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