John Updike Passed Away
John Updike, the creator of the Rabbit series, the author who depicted the American small town, Protestant middle class, the chronicler of suburban adultery, died today at the age of 76.
Here is a poem by John Updike. I found it in the NY Times. The title is REQUIEM.
It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
I thought he died a while ago.
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
Were I to die, no one would say,
Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
I thought he died a while ago.
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
Mi-a venit in gand mai deunazi:
De-ar fi sa mor, nimeni n-ar zice,
Ce pacat! Atat de tanar! Si ce promitator
Era! Ce profunzimi greu de sondat!
In schimb, un dat din umeri si ochi uscati
Ar saluta retragerea mea
Venita mult dupa orice asteptari.
Raspunsul tuturor ar fi, o stiu,
Acum? Nu murise? Ce chestie!
Caci viata nu este decat un subterfugiu zdrentuit
Pe cand moartea este adevarata, si neagra, e un hau.
Iar socul ei nu e simtit niciunde
Decat acolo unde se intampla.
De-ar fi sa mor, nimeni n-ar zice,
Ce pacat! Atat de tanar! Si ce promitator
Era! Ce profunzimi greu de sondat!
In schimb, un dat din umeri si ochi uscati
Ar saluta retragerea mea
Venita mult dupa orice asteptari.
Raspunsul tuturor ar fi, o stiu,
Acum? Nu murise? Ce chestie!
Caci viata nu este decat un subterfugiu zdrentuit
Pe cand moartea este adevarata, si neagra, e un hau.
Iar socul ei nu e simtit niciunde
Decat acolo unde se intampla.
(A Life in Books)
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