Alison Mattox Translation

Edna St. Vincent Millay

God’s World


O World, I cannot hold thee close enough!

            Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!

            Thy mists that roll and rise!

Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag

And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag

To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!

World, World, I cannot get thee close enough! 


Long have I known a glory in it all,

            But never knew I this;

            Here such a passion is

As stretcheth me apart. Lord, I do fear

Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year.

My soul is all but out of me,—let fall

No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.



Alison Mattox



Maya, I touch but can’t probe deep enough

            The ether, with no bounds!

            Vapor that curls and rounds!

Today your trees that bend and drip and weep

And seem to scream their red! That bony steep

Cliff fall! Of that outcrop support the weight!

Maya! I try to feel your heart vibrate!


Maya, I long have sensed your artifice,

But now I am awake:

Your beauty is not fake,

And lays me bare: my self you overwhelm:

The rush of recognition of your realm:

I melt into your scheme—fix your richness,

For me, freeze this day before the solstice.