David J Bauman

This is one of my favorite poems, and while Elizabeth Bishop has fun with the French Villanelle form, I have a little fun at the expense of my Irish brother, Vincent. I enjoyed recording this reading and even have one really fantastic blooper reel that I might be willing to show to you (if you plead and beg nicely) as a result of the cat caterwauling in the background.

The text of the poem is printed there, just below my handsome face. Enjoy!

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

–Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.