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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447961" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For A Thirteenth Birthday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You have read War and Peace.<br>Now here is Sister Carrie,<br>not up to Tolstoy; still<br>it will second the real world:<br>predictable planes and levels,<br>pavement that holds you,<br>stairs that lift you,<br>ice that trips you,<br>nights that begin after sunset,<br>four lunar phases,<br>a finite house.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I give you Dreiser<br>although (or because)<br>I am no longer sure.<br>Lately I have been walking into glass doors.<br>Through the car windows, curbs disappear.<br>On the highway, wrong turnoffs become irresistible,<br>someone else is controlling the wheel.<br>Sleepless nights pile up like a police record;<br>all my friends are getting divorced.<br>Language, my old comrade, deserts me;<br>words are misused or forgotten,<br>consonants fight each other<br>between my upper and lower teeth.<br>I write &quot;fiend&quot; for &quot;friend&quot;<br>and &quot;word&quot; for &quot;world&quot;,<br>remember comes out with an &quot;m&quot; missing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I used to be able to find my way in the dark,<br>sure of the furniture,<br>but the town I lived in for years<br>has pulled up its streets in my absence,<br>disguised its buildings behind my back.<br>My neighbor at dinner glances<br>at his cuffs, his palms;<br>he has memorized certain phrases,<br>but does not speak my language.<br>Suddenly I am aware <br>no one at the table does.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so I give you Dreiser,<br>his measure of certainty:<br>a table that's oak all the way through,<br>real and fragrant flowers,<br>skirts from sheep and silkworms,<br>no unknown fibers;<br>a language as plain as money,<br>a workable means of exchange;<br>a world whose very meanness is solid,<br>mud into mortar, and you are sure<br>of what will injure you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I give you names like nails,<br>walls that withstand your pounding,<br>doors that are hard to open,<br>but once they are open, admit you <br>into rooms that breathe pure sun.<br>I give you trees that lose their leaves,<br>as you knew they would,<br>and then come green again.<br>I give you <br>fruit preceded by flowers,<br>Venus supreme in the sky,<br>the miracle of always<br>landing on your feet,<br>even though the earth<br>rotates on its axis.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Start out with that, at least.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lisel+Mueller">Lisel Mueller</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447961" data-title="For A Thirteenth Birthday de Lisel Mueller" data-description="You have read War and Peace.
Now here is Sister Carrie,
not up to Tolstoy; still
it will second the real world:
predictable planes and levels,
pavement that holds you,
stairs that lift you,
ice that trips you,
nights that begin after sunset,
four ..."></div>
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