I love this book so much. I first read it close to two decades ago, when I happened on it in the Boston Public Library. I then tried to read other translations of Mistral, but nothing compared with Hughes's translation. It won't be for everyone, although I'd suggest if the early poems about children don't do it for you, keep reading. I love her obsession with the son she never had. I love how she boldly wrote with love for pregnant women & the pregnant body at a time when "pregnant" was a rude word. I love the fresh imagery, the stunning word choices and turns of phrase, a merging of Mistral and Hughes. I can dwell on a poem, on a few lines at a time, on an image, and will keep coming back to them.