Found a brief moment of quiet in the sun reading W.S. Merwin. The genius of his poems grabbed me completely and deeply. There is a tone adopted by writers whose profound love of and communion with the language—many languages—marks their work. That tone is perhaps not so much adopted as discovered. One works their way to it. Fights through to it—no I don’t like that description. It is not a fight. Sure you may struggle to learn a second or third language but the major dynamic is cooperation. As Merwin wrote: ”speech lent itself to my purpose.”
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