When I asked Robert Wynne to join me as co-editor of a new poetry anthology, his immediate response was When do we start? Only
Translated by W. D. Snodgrass with Dona Rosu and Luciana Costea In front of my house where I live with myself An unexampled hubbub
My Love, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will recorded in my pillow. If you desire, you may
If we didn’t have words to put feelings into meaning, we would merely think we were hungry all the time. Originally published in