Excerpt of a poem by Charles Olson:
I am no Greek, hath not th’advantage.
And of course, no Roman:
he can take no risk that matters,
the risk of beauty least of all.
But I have my kin, if for no other reason than
(as he said, next of kin) I commit myself, and,
given my freedom, I’d be a cad
if I didn’t. Which is most true.
It works out this way, despite the disadvantage.
I offer, in explanation, a quote:
si j’ai du goût, ce n’est guères
que pour la terre et les pierres.
Despite the discrepancy (an ocean courage age)
this is also true: if I have any taste
it is only because I have interested myself
in what was slain in the sun
I pose you your question:
shall you uncover honey / where maggots are?
I hunt among stones
Here’s a great analysis of this poem: from Sibila. The resounding question of the poem is, according to the linked explanation: Is our Western heritage salvageable?
The answer, or at least the quest for an answer, lies in returning to what’s real: the material earth. So Olson hunts among stones.