Today I have been able to find satisfaction in small doings– washed dishes, pulled weeds, baby napping contentedly. So I chose a poem that I think reflects some of that.
Marina Tsvetaeva, the author of today’s poem, was a Russian author living and writing during some immense upheavals happening in her country and the world at large. Take a minute to look at her biography when you get the chance. Also, the translators of this poem (Ilya Kaminsky and Jean Valentine (and isn’t “Jean Valentine” a delightful name?)) wrote an illuminating and fascinating “note” that might be worth reading as well.
But first, the poem:
I am happy living simply:
like a clock, or a calendar.
Worldly pilgrim, thin,
wise–as any creature. To know
the spirit is my beloved. To come to things– swift
as a ray of light, or a look.
To live as I write: spare– the way
God asks me– and friends do not.
Question of the Day: How do you define “living simply”?