"Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish."
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Essayists from the United StatesShort story writers from the United StatesDiaristsNovelists from BostonPoets from Boston
Original Language: English
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Sylvia Plath
1932 – 1963
US-amerikanische Dichterin und Schriftstellerin
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