'The City In Which I Loved You' by Li-Young Lee


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And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...

That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
drag my extinction in search of you...

Past the guarded schoolyards, the boarded-up churches, swastikaed
synagogues, defended houses of worship, past
newspapered windows of tenements, along the violated,
the prosecuted citizenry, throughout this
storied, buttressed, scavenged, policed
city I call home, in which I am a guest...

a bruise, blue
in the muscle, you
impinge upon me.
As bone hugs the ache home, so
I'm vexed to love you, your body

the shape of returns, your hair a torso
of light, your heat
I must have, your opening
I'd eat, each moment
of that soft-finned fruit,
inverted fountain in which I don't see me.

My tongue remembers your wounded flavor.
The vein in my neck
adores you. A sword
stands up between my hips,
my hidden fleece send forth its scent of human oil.

The shadows under my arms,
I promise, are tender, the shadows
under my face. Do not calculate,
but come, smooth other, rough sister.
Yet, how will you know me

among the captives, my hair grown long,
my blood motley, my ways trespassed upon?
In the uproar, the confusion
of accents and inflections
how will you hear me when I open my mouth?

Look for me, one of the drab population
under fissured edifices, fractured
artifices. Make my various
names flock overhead,
I will follow you.
Hew me to your beauty.

Stack in me the unaccountable fire,
bring on me the iron leaf, but tenderly.
Folded one hundred times and
creased, I'll not crack.
Threshed to excellence, I'll achieve you.

but in the city
in which I love you,
no one comes, no one
meets me in the brick clefts;
in the wedged dark,

no finger touches me secretly, no mouth
tastes my flawless salt,
no one wakens the honey in the cells, finds the humming
in the ribs, the rich business in the recesses;
hulls clogged, I continue laden, translated

by exhaustion and time's appetite, my sleep abandoned
in bus stations and storefront stoops,
my insomnia erected under a sky
cross-hatched by wires, branches,
and black flights of rain. Lewd body of wind

jams me in the passageways, doors slam
like guns going off, a gun goes off, a pie plate spins
past, whizzing its thin tremolo,
a plastic bag, fat with wind, barrels by and slaps
a chain-link fence, wraps it like clung skin.

In the excavated places,
I waited for you, and I did not cry out.
In the derelict rooms, my body needed you,
and there was such flight in my breast.
During the daily assaults, I called to you,

and my voice pursued you,
even backward
to that other city
in which I saw a woman
squat in the street

beside a body,
and fan with a handkerchief flies from its face.
That woman
was not me. And
the corpse

lying there, lying there
so still it seemed with great effort, as though
his whole being was concentrating on the hole
in his forehead, so still
I expected he'd sit up any minute and laugh out loud:

that man was not me;
his wound was his, his death not mine.
and the soldier
who fired the shot, then lit a cigarette:
he was not me.

And the ones I do not see
in cities all over the world,
the ones sitting, standing, lying down, those
in prisons playing checkers with their knocked-out teeth:
they are not me. Some of them are

my age, even my height and weight;
none of them is me.
The woman who is slapped, the man who is kicked,
the ones who don't survive,
whose names I do not know;

they are not me forever,
the ones who no longer live
in the cities in which
you are not,
the cities in which I looked for you.

The rain stops, the moon
in her breaths appears overhead.
the only sound now is a far flapping.
Over the National Bank, the flag of some republic or other
gallops like water on fire to tear itself away.

If I feel the night
move to disclosures or crescendos,
it's only because I'm famished
for meaning; the night
merely dissolves.

And your otherness is perfect as my death.
Your otherness exhausts me,
like looking suddenly up from here
to impossible stars fading.
Everything is punished by your absence.

Is prayer, then, the proper attitude
for the mind that longs to be freely blown,
but which gets snagged on the barb
called world, that
tooth-ache, the actual? What prayer

would I build? And to whom?
Where are you
in the cities in which I love you,
the cities daily risen to work and to money,
to the magnificent miles and the gold coasts?

Morning comes to this city vacant of you.
Pages and windows flare, and you are not there.
Someone sweeps his portion of sidewalk,
wakens the drunk, slumped like laundry,
and you are gone.

You are not in the wind
which someone notes in the margins of a book.
You are gone out of the small fires in abandoned lots
where human figures huddle,
each aspiring to its own ghost.

Between brick walls, in a space no wider than my face,
a leafless sapling stands in mud.
In its branches, a nest of raw mouths
gaping and cheeping, scrawny fires that must eat.
My hunger for you is no less than theirs.

At the gates of the city in which I love you,
the sea hauls the sun on its back,
strikes the land, which rebukes it.
what ardor in its sliding heft,
a flameless friction on the rocks.

Like the sea, I am recommended by my orphaning.
Noisy with telegrams not received,
quarrelsome with aliases,
intricate with misguided journeys,
by my expulsions have I come to love you.

Straight from my father's wrath,
and long from my mother's womb,
late in this century and on a Wednesday morning,
bearing the mark of one who's experienced
neither heaven nor hell,

my birthplace vanished, my citizenship earned,
in league with stones of the earth, I
enter, without retreat or help from history,
the days of no day, my earth
of no earth, I re-enter

the city in which I love you.
And I never believed that the multitude
of dreams and many words were vain.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The City In Which I Loved You: A Masterpiece of Poetic Narrative

I have always been fascinated by the way poetry can encapsulate our deepest emotions and experiences in a few well-chosen words. So, when I came across Li-Young Lee's "The City In Which I Loved You," I knew I had stumbled upon a gem. This poem, with its haunting beauty and poignant imagery, speaks to the human heart in a way that few other works of literature can match. Join me as I explore the various themes and motifs of this masterpiece and delve deeper into the mind of its creator.

An Overview of the Poem

"The City In Which I Loved You" is a long poem that consists of nine sections, each of which contains several stanzas. The poem is written in free verse and is characterized by its lyrical quality and vivid imagery. The poem is also notable for its use of repetition, which serves to reinforce its central themes.

The poem is narrated by the speaker, who is addressing a lover. The speaker describes his experiences of love and loss in a city that has become infused with memories of the past. The poem's themes include love, memory, loss, and the passage of time.

The City as a Site of Memory

One of the central themes of the poem is the idea of the city as a site of memory. Throughout the poem, the speaker describes his experiences of love and loss in a city that has become infused with memories of the past. The city serves as a physical embodiment of the speaker's memories, a place where he can revisit the moments he shared with his lover.

In the first section of the poem, the speaker describes the city as a place where "everything is remembered." He goes on to describe how the city's streets and buildings are imbued with memories of the past:

Here, every street leads to a grave. The buildings all have memories. I hear voices in their walls.

This idea is further developed in subsequent sections of the poem, where the city is described as a place where "the past is a map," and where "the streets are made of memory." The speaker's experiences of love and loss have become so intertwined with the city that he can no longer separate them.

Love and Loss

At its core, "The City In Which I Loved You" is a poem about love and loss. The speaker describes the intense emotions he feels for his lover and the pain he experiences when they are no longer together. The poem is suffused with a sense of longing and nostalgia for a love that has been lost.

In the second section of the poem, the speaker describes how he and his lover "became two continents of sorrow," separated by distance and time. The pain of their separation is palpable throughout the poem, and the speaker longs for a reunion that may never come.

The poem's title is also significant in this context. The word "loved" is in the past tense, suggesting that the speaker's love for his lover is something that has already been lost. The city in which he loved his lover has become a site of memory, a place where he can revisit the moments they shared.

The Passage of Time

Another important theme in the poem is the passage of time. Throughout the poem, the speaker reflects on how time has changed him and his lover. He describes how they have grown older and how their love has evolved over time.

In the third section of the poem, the speaker reflects on how time has changed his lover:

Your hair is white and your face is lined with deep furrows like a field that has been plowed too long.

The passage of time is also reflected in the physical landscape of the city. The speaker describes how the city has changed over time, with new buildings and streets replacing the old. The city serves as a visual reminder of the passage of time, and the inevitability of change.

Conclusion

In conclusion, "The City In Which I Loved You" is a masterpiece of poetic narrative that explores themes of love, memory, loss, and the passage of time. Through its lyrical language and vivid imagery, the poem speaks to the human heart in a way that few other works of literature can match. Li-Young Lee's use of repetition and metaphor serves to reinforce the poem's central themes, while the city itself becomes a physical embodiment of the speaker's memories. If you haven't already read this poem, I highly recommend it. It's a true masterpiece of modern poetry, and one that will stay with you long after you've finished reading it.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The City In Which I Loved You: A Poetic Journey of Love and Loss

Li-Young Lee's The City In Which I Loved You is a masterpiece of modern poetry that explores the complexities of love, memory, and identity. The poem is a journey through the speaker's past, present, and future, as he reflects on his experiences in a city that holds a special place in his heart. Through vivid imagery, powerful metaphors, and lyrical language, Lee captures the essence of human emotion and the universal longing for connection.

The poem is divided into four sections, each of which explores a different aspect of the speaker's relationship with the city and the people he loves. In the first section, "The City in Which I Love You," Lee sets the tone for the rest of the poem by describing the city as a place of both beauty and pain. The speaker is torn between his love for the city and the memories of heartbreak that it holds. He describes the city as "a place where the streets are paved with memories" and "a city of pain and tenderness." This juxtaposition of beauty and pain sets the stage for the rest of the poem, as the speaker grapples with the complexities of his emotions.

In the second section, "The Room," Lee explores the speaker's relationship with a lover who has left him. The speaker describes the room where they once shared intimate moments, and the memories that still linger there. He says, "The room is still filled with your absence, your presence, / it is still filled with you, / with your scent, your voice, your hair." The room becomes a symbol of the speaker's longing for his lost love, and the memories that he cannot escape.

The third section, "The Weight of Sweetness," is perhaps the most powerful and poignant of the poem. Here, Lee explores the speaker's relationship with his father, who is dying of cancer. The speaker describes the weight of his father's illness, and the sweetness of their time together. He says, "I carry the sweetness of your death / in my mouth, / the sweetness of the last breath, / the sweetness of the body / when life left it." The image of sweetness juxtaposed with death is both beautiful and heartbreaking, and captures the complexity of the speaker's emotions as he faces the loss of his father.

In the final section, "The Cleaving," Lee brings the poem full circle, returning to the theme of love and loss that runs throughout the poem. The speaker describes the act of cleaving, or separating, from the city and the people he loves. He says, "I cleave to you, / I cling to you, / I hold you / against my breastbone / and will not let you go." The act of cleaving becomes a metaphor for the speaker's struggle to let go of the past and move forward into the future.

Throughout the poem, Lee uses vivid imagery and powerful metaphors to capture the essence of human emotion. The city becomes a symbol of both love and pain, the room a symbol of longing and loss, and the weight of sweetness a symbol of the complexity of life and death. The poem is a journey through the speaker's past, present, and future, as he grapples with the complexities of his emotions and the universal longing for connection.

In conclusion, Li-Young Lee's The City In Which I Loved You is a masterpiece of modern poetry that explores the complexities of love, memory, and identity. Through vivid imagery, powerful metaphors, and lyrical language, Lee captures the essence of human emotion and the universal longing for connection. The poem is a journey through the speaker's past, present, and future, as he reflects on his experiences in a city that holds a special place in his heart. The City In Which I Loved You is a must-read for anyone who has ever loved and lost, and who has grappled with the complexities of human emotion.

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