From the Ninth Elegy:
Maybe we're here only to say: house,
bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window —
at most, pillar, tower ...
but to say them, remember,
oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves
never dreamed of existing so intensely.
I am surrounded by a community of lovers and doers. It is a beautiful time of year.
When a car cuts me off in traffic, when the frantic mother runs into my ankles with her
shopping cart, when I despair over money or messes or temporary inconveniences,
I will recall this and smile.