“[Ibykos fr. 286 translated using only words from p. 47 of Endgame by Samuel Beckett] In your kitchen, on the one hand, bright corpses starting to stink of having an idea, where one of my legs [is] and beneath sooner or later the whole universe doesn't ring and won't work. On the other hand, I shouldn't think so. Nay Rather, like a speck in the void, pacing to and fro, accompanied by the alarm, frankly, angrily, impatiently, not very convinced, [it] kisses me goodbye. I'm dead. (Pause).” PoetryEndgameBeckettAnne CarsonNay Rather Author:Anne Carson