My way is in the sand flowing
 between the shingle and the dune
 the summer rain rains on my life,
 on me my life harrying fleeing
 to its beginning to its end

 My peace is there in the receding mist
 when I may cease from treading these long shifting thresholds
 and live the space of a door
 that opens and shuts


 je suis ce cour de sable qui glisse
 entre le galet et le dune
 le pluie d'etre pleur sur ma vie
 sur moi ma vie qui me fuit me poursuit
 et finira le jour de son commencement

 cher instant je te vois
 dan ce rideau de brume qui recule
 ou je n'aurai plus a fouler ces long seuils mouvants
 et vivrai le temps d'une porte
 qui s'ouvre et se referme

(1948, from “Collected Poems in English and French”)

My first encounter with this poem was as an undergraduate back in the mid-eighties. Although I almost never studied in the library, the effect of upcoming finals on the temper of my normally pleasant roommate induced me to study there one semester. I ended up near the poetry section more by accident than design. Bored by whatever I was supposed to be studying, I happened to see an old, thin volume of poems which I started flipping through. Twenty years later, I can’t remember much from any of my classes, but I can still recite several of those poems (the English versions anyway) from memory.

Back then, I would have been certain I knew the poem’s meaning. Now, I’ll just say that I like how it sounds when recited aloud, its sea imagery, and the fact that – while it seems to acknowledge life’s futility (those long shifting thresholds), when I read it I feel some ultimate sense of rightness about everything.

Beckett is, of course, better known as a playwright than a poet. His most famous work is Waiting for Godot.

— Barbara Kay Bosserman

Links

Biography
http://www.samuel-beckett.net/speople.html

The parent site is a good collection of Beckett links:
http://www.samuel-beckett.net/