Some selected and new works by the prolific poet and translator of Latin American works. These are quiet, thoughtful poems in which the essences of the Christian experience are immediate facts of mental and physical life: ""A dumb kid in some silly game/ for the law straining around the earth to crack/ and the rock roll back."" The worst tend toward singsong rhyme (""and still I know the shape I touch/ that seems something is nothing much""), a morbid ostentation (""That all the rage we learn is the first rage./ That more than choose to die by water, do""), and an occasional finicky pomposity of expression (""your manhood held in your fingers""). The best have their half and internal rhymes modulated with humor (as in an ode to the euglena: ""you've held your own for twenty/ million years// who might have been a tulip/ or a tiger// you shrewd little bastard""). All in all, a respectable group of traditional poems, generally graceful if rarely surprising.