Gray Room, di Wallace Stevens

Wallace Stevens

Gray Room

Although you sit in a room that is gray,

Except for the silver

Of the straw-paper,

And pick

At your pale white gown;

Or lift one of the green beads

Of your necklace,

To let it fall;

Or gaze at your green fan

Printed with the red branches of a red willow;

Or, with one finger,

Move the leaf in the bowl—

The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia

Beside you...

What is all this?

I know how furiously your heart is beating.

#AmericanWriters

Altre opere di Wallace Stevens...

Valley Candle

My candle burned alone in an immen… Beams of the huge night converged… Until the wind blew. The beams of the huge night Converged upon its image,

The Plot Against the Giant

First Girl When this yokel comes maundering, Whetting his hacker, I shall run before him, Diffusing the civilest odors

What is Divinity

What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in drea… Shall she not find in comforts of… In pungent fruit and bright, green… In any balm or beauty of the earth…

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. I was of three minds, Like a tree

Table Talk

Granted, we die for good. Life, then, is largely a thing Of happens to like, not should. And that, too, granted, why Do I happen to like red bush,

To the Roaring Wind

What syllable are you seeking, Vocalissimus, In the distances of sleep? Speak it.

Frogs Eat Butterflies, Snakes Eat Frogs, Hogs Eat Snakes, Men Eat Hogs

It is true that the rivers went no… Tugging at banks, until they seeme… Bland belly-sounds in somnolent tr… That the air was heavy with the br… The breath of turgid summer, and

Metaphors of a Magnifico

Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are twenty men crossing twenty bri… Into twenty villages, Or one man

Domination of Black

At night, by the fire, The colors of the bushes And of the fallen leaves, Repeating themselves, Turned in the room,

Indian River

The trade-wind jingles the rings i… by the docks on Indian River. It is the same jingle of the water… banks of the palmettoes. It is the same jingle of the red-b…

A Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock

The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings,

To the One of Fictive Music

Sister and mother and diviner love… And of the sisterhood of the livin… Most near, most clear, and of the… And of the fragrant mothers the mo… And queen, and of diviner love the…

Not Ideas About the Thing But the Thing Itself

At the earliest ending of winter, In March, a scrawny cry from outs… Seemed like a sound in his mind. He knew that he heard it, A bird’s cry at daylight or before…

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds… Let the wenches dawdle in such dre… As they are used to wear, and let…

Peter Quince at the Clavier

Just as my fingers on these keys Make music, so the self-same sound… On my spirit make a music, too. Music is feeling, then, not sound; And thus it is that what I feel,

Wallace Stevens

Gray Room

Condividere

Altre opere di Wallace Stevens...