Derek Walcott and the Poetry of Liberalism

THE NEW YORK TIMES | on Mon, Mar 20, 3:23 PM

The death last week of Derek Walcott, at the age of 87, brought an end[1] to one of the longest and most splendid careers in English-language poetry. It was an ending Mr. Walcott himself had been thinking about for decades. “I imagine my absence,” he wrote in his book “The Bounty,” and he took a sort of comfort in knowing that this absence would make no difference to nature: “the shadows returning exactly some May as they ought,/but with the seam of air I inhabited closed.”In a larger sense, ...

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