Gabriel Quotes

“I did not know the work of mourning
Is like carrying a bag of cement
Up a mountain at night

The mountaintop is not in sight
Because there is no mountaintop
Poor Sisyphus grief

I did not know I would struggle
Through a ragged underbrush
Without an upward path

...

Look closely and you will see
Almost everyone carrying bags
Of cement on their shoulders

That’s why it takes courage
To get out of bed in the morning
And climb into the day.”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“I wish I could believe in the otherworld I wish I could believe in a place Of reunions outside of memory”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Look closely and you will see Almost everyone carrying bags Of cement on their shoulders That’s why it takes courage To get out of bed in the morning And climb into the day”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“I keep scraping the canvas
And painting him over again
But he keeps slipping away”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“I did not know the work of mourning Is a labor in the dark We carry inside ourselves”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“I did not know the work of mourning
Is like carrying a bag of cement
Up a mountain at night

The mountaintop is not in sight
Because there is no mountaintop
Poor Sisyphus grief

I did not know I would struggle
Through a ragged underbrush
Without an upward path

Because there is no path
There is only a blunt rock
With a river to fall into

And Time with its medieval chambers
Time with its jagged edges
And blunt instruments

I did not know the work of mourning
Is a labor in the dark
We carry inside ourselves

Though sometimes when I sleep
I'm with him again
And then I wake

Poor Sisyphus grief
I'm not ready for your heaviness
Cemented to my body

Look closely and you will see
Almost everyone carrying bags
Of cement on their shoulders

That's why it takes courage
To get out of bed in the morning
And climb into the day”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Grief broke down in phrases
And extrapolated lines
From me without myself

Tear-stained pillow of stone
I felt I was lying
Beside him in the coffin

Wormy mother
Who takes us into the ground
With her whenever and wherever

She wants the grass glistens
And grows over us in the heat
Of late summer in the country”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“When Ungaretti lost his nine-year-old boy
He understood that death is death
In an extremely brutal way

It was the most terrible event of my life
I know what death means
I knew it even before

But when the best part of me was ripped away
I experienced death in myself
From that moment on

It would strike me as shameless
To talk about it
That pain will never stop tormenting me”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Rainer Maria Rilke sacrificed everything
For his art he dedicated himself
To the Great Work

I admired his single-mindedness
All through my twenties
I argued his case

Now I think he was a jerk
For skipping his daughter's wedding
For fear of losing his focus

He believed in the ancient enmity
Between daily life and the highest work
Or Ruth and the Duino Elegies

It is probably a middle-class prejudice
Of mine to think that Anna Akhmatova
Should have raised her son Lev

Instead of dumping him on her husband's mom
Motherhood is a bright torture she confessed
I was not worthy of it

Lev never considered it sufficient
For her to stand outside his prison
Month after month clutching packages

And composing Requiem for the masses”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“The population of his feelings
Could not be governed
By the authorities

He had reasons why
Reason disobeyed him
And voted him out of office

Anxiety
His constant companion
Made it difficult to rest

Unruly party of one
Forget about truces or compromises
The barricades will be stormed

Every day was an emergency
Every day called for another emergency
Meeting of the cabinet

In his country
There were scenes
Of spectacular carnage

Hurricanes welcomed him
He adored typhoons and tornadoes
Furies unleashed

Houses lifted up
And carried to the sea
Uncontained uncontainable

Unbolt the doors
Fling open the gates
Here he comes

Chaotic wind of the gods
He was trouble
But he was our trouble”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“I did not know the work of mourning Is like carrying a bag of cement Up a mountain at night”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“What else are there but rituals
To cover up the emptiness
O Disbelief

Lord Nothingness
When my son's suffering ended
My own began

Why did the sun rise this morning
It's not natural
I don't want to see the light

It's not time to close the casket
Or say Kaddish for my son
I've already buried two fathers

With a mother to come
Isn't that enough Lord who wants us
To exalt and sanctify Him

I don't want to wear the mourner's ribbon
Or wake up crying every morning
For God knows how long

I don't want to tuck my son into the ground
As if we were putting him to bed
For the last time”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“The evening with its lamps burning
The night with its head in its hands
The early morning

I look back at the worried parents
Wandering through the house
What are we going to do

The evening of the clinical
The night of the psychological
The morning facedown in the pillow

The experts can handle him
The experts have no idea
How to handle him

There are enigmas in darkness
There are mysteries
Sent out without searchlights

The stars are hiding tonight
The moon is cold and stony
Behind the clouds

Nights without seeing
Mornings of the long view
It's not a sprint but a marathon

Whatever we can do
We must do
Every morning's resolve

But sometimes we suspected
He was being punished
For something obscure we had done

I would never abandon the puzzle
Sleeping in the next room
But I could not solve it”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Jonson wrote a poem and called his son
His best piece of poetrie
A lovely line a little loathsome

I loved that poem once
He said we are lent our sons never take
Too much pleasure in what you love”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Like a spear hurtling through darkness
He was always in such a hurry
To find a target to stop him

Like a young lion trying out its roar
At the far edge of the den
The roar inside him was even louder”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“He could never stand still but now
Something that had once been my son
Lay there restless spirit

Who left the house one rainy night
And never returned
Lost boy

Who will never be found again
Anywhere but eternity”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem

“Why did the sun rise this morning
It's not natural
I don't want to see the light

It's not time to close the casket
Or say Kaddish for my son
I've already buried two fathers

With a mother to come
Isn't that enough Lord who wants us
To exalt and santify Him

I don't want to wear the mourner's ribbon
Or wake up crying every morning
For God knows how long

I don't want to tuck my son into the ground
As if we were putting him to bed
For the last time

Close the prayer book I will not pretend
That God brings peace upon us
And upon all Israel

I don't want to hear anyone
Scolding me from her wheelchair
Because I'm crying too hard

I'm not worried about a heart attack
Nothingness
You've already broken my heart

I will not forgive you
Sun of emptiness
Sky of blank clouds

I will not forgive you
Indifferent God
Until you give back my son”
― Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: A Poem