<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540790" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Journey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Snake River Country</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I now remembered slowly how I came, <br>I, sometime living, sometime with a name, <br>Creeping by iron ways across the bare <br>Wastes of Wyoming, turning in despair, <br>Changing and turning, till the fall of night, <br>Then throbbing motionless with iron might. <br>Four days and nights! Small stations by the way, <br>Sunk far past midnight! Nothing one can say <br>Names the compassion they stir in the heart. <br>Obscure men shift and cry, and we depart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And I remembered with the early sun <br>That foul-mouthed barber back in Pendleton, <br>The sprawling streets, the icy station bench, <br>The Round-up pennants, the latrinal stench. <br>These towns are cold by day, the flesh of vice <br>Raw and decisive, and the will precise; <br>At night the turbulence of drink and mud, <br>Blue glare of gas, the dances dripping blood, <br>Fists thudding murder in the shadowy air, <br>Exhausted whores, sunk to a changeless stare. <br>Alive in empty fact alone, extreme, <br>They make each fact a mortuary dream. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Once when the train paused in an empty place, <br>I met the unmoved landscape face to face; <br>Smoothing abysses that no stream could slake, <br>Deep in its black gulch crept the heavy Snake, <br>The sound diffused, and so intently firm, <br>It seemed the silence, having change nor term. <br>Beyond the river, gray volcanic stone <br>In rolling hills: the river moved alone. <br>And when we started, charged with mass, and slow, <br>We hung against it in an awful flow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Thus I proceeded until early night, <br>And, when I read the station’s name aright, <br>Descended—at the bidding of a word! <br>I slept the night out where the thought occurred, <br>Then rose to view the dwelling where I lay. <br>Outside, the bare land stretching far away; <br>The frame house, new, fortuitous, and bright, <br>Pointing the presence of the morning light; <br>A train’s far screaming, clean as shining steel <br>Planing the distance for the gliding heel. <br>Through shrinking frost, autumnal grass uncurled, <br>In naked sunlight, on a naked world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Yvor+Winters">Yvor Winters</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=540790" data-title="The Journey de Yvor Winters" data-description="Snake River Country I now remembered slowly how I came, I, sometime living, sometime with a name, Creeping by iron ways across the bare Wastes of Wyoming, turning in despair, Changing and turning, till the fall of night, Then throbbing motio..."></div> </div> </div>

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