Wednesday, December 27, 2006

What Comes With a Fox


The last stanza of a Ted Hughes poem, "Epiphany" (after a man had given him a fox-cub in the London subway and Hughes was contemplating whether or not to take it home--he decided "no," because he was afraid that his wife, Sylvia Plath, would get mad at him):


...If I had grasped that whatever comes with a fox
Is what tests a marriage and proves it a marriage--
I would not have failed the test. Would you have failed it?
But I failed. Our marriage had failed.


While I love Sylvia Plath as the better, and much more profound, poet, Ted Hughes breaks my heart. He's the only poet that I've ever cried over when reading.

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