Derek Walcott, 1990
These are the days when, however simple the future, we do not go
towards it but leave part of life in a lobby whose elevators
divide and enclose us, brightening digits that show
exactly where we are headed, while a young Polish woman
is emptying an ashtray, and we are drawn to a window
whose strings, if we pull them, widen an emptiness.
I could never read all of it, but Omeros is full of gems. Thanks for sharing!
Yeah! I think Omeros hit my radar right after War Music by Christopher Logue. I was interested in “alternative” translations/variations, and though Omeros is an original piece it folds so much Homer into modern language that it caught my eye. My part of the US has a huge Caribbean community as well, so I was interested in Walcott as a St. Lucian writer, too.