Castile by Louise Glück
Walking through this poem slowly.
Castile
Louise GlückOrange blossoms blowing over Castile
children begging for coinsI met my love under an orange tree
or was it an acacia tree
or was he not my love?I read this, then I dreamed this:
can waking take back what happened to me?
Bells of San Miguel
ringing in the distance
his hair in the shadows blond-whiteI dreamed this,
does that mean it didn’t happen?
Does it have to happen in the world to be real?I dreamed everything, the story
became my story:he lay beside me,
my hand grazed the skin of his shoulderMid-day, then early evening:
in the distance, the sound of a trainBut it was not the world:
in the world, a thing happens finally, absolutely,
the mind cannot reverse it.Castile: nuns walking in pairs through the dark garden.
Outside the walls of the Holy Angels
children begging for coinsWhen I woke I was crying,
has that no reality?I met my love under an orange tree:
I have forg otten
only the facts, not the inference—
there were children, somewhere, crying, begging for coinsI dreamed everything, I gave myself
completely and for all timeAnd the train returned us
first to Madrid
then to the Basque country