And other times she wouldn't be fast enough, so she'd be running and running, and she wouldn't get to the house and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it and she said it would continue on across the landscape, looking, as she put it "for another poet."
Она бежала и бежала, но не попадала домой, и поэма прокатывалась через нее и исчезала за горизонтом в поисках, как Рут выразилась, другого поэта. А в другие времена,