Read at the Award Dinner, May 1996
Beware when you honor an artist.
You are praising danger.
You are holding out your hand
to the dead and the unborn.
You are counting on what cannot be counted.
The poet’s measures serve anarchic joy.
The story-teller tells one story: freedom.
Above all beware of honoring women artists.
For the housewife will fill the house with lions
and in with the grandmother
come bears, wild horses, great horned owls, coyotes.
(The Award dinner was when Le Guin was presented with a Retrospective James Tiptree, Jr. Memorial Award for
The Left Hand of Darkness.)
Anonyma When the great lordly singers hush,
my casual and selfless voice
that takes no profit, makes no choice,
pipes up, indifferent as a thrush.
When brazen monuments corrode
and praise is dust in dust with blame
and dateless night hides every name,
I still go lilting down the road.
It’s sad that hopes and poets die,
but my dear task and fondest care
is to bear softly what’s to bear
and ever to sing the lullabye.
Copyright © 2023 by The Ursula K. Le Guin Literary Trust. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.