Poetry chooses choice things, carefully selecting
select words, arranging,
fabulously, things arranged. To put it differently
is hard, if not out of the question.
Poetry's like a clay plate. It's broken easily
under the weight of all those poems. In the hands
of the poet, it sings. In those of others, not only
doesn't it sing, it's out of the question.
Source: Poetry (April 2008).
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This poem originally appeared in the April 2008 issue of Poetry magazine
Natan Zach was born in Berlin in 1930 and moved to Israel with his family when he was six. He has published some eight collections of verse, several volumes of prose, and children’s literature.
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