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Wallace Stevens

Wallace Stevens

Valley Candle

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

#Americans Modern

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Otras obras de Wallace Stevens...
The Death of Socrates, by Jacques-Louis David
To an Old Philosopher in Rome

On the threshold of heaven, the fi… Become the figures of heaven, the… Of men growing small in the distan… Singing, with smaller and still sm… Unintelligible absolution and an e…
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…
Domination of Black

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

After the leaves have fallen, we r… To a plain sense of things. It is… We had come to an end of the imagi… Inanimate in an inert savoir. It is difficult even to choose the…
A Rabbit as King of the Ghosts

The difficulty to think at the end… When the shapeless shadow covers t… And nothing is left except light o… There was the cat slopping its mil… Fat cat, red tongue, green mind, w…
 1
Man Carrying Thing

The poem must resist the intellige… Almost successfully. Illustration… A brune figure in winter evening r… Identity. The thing he carries re… The most necessitous sense. Accep…
Of the Surface of Things

In my room, the world is beyond my… But when I walk I see that it con… hills and a cloud. From my balcony, I survey the yel… Reading where I have written,
 2
The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain

There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a… He breathed its oxygen, Even when the book lay turned in t… It reminded him how he had needed
Continual Conversation With a Silent Man

The old brown hen and the old blue… Between the two we live and die— The broken cartwheel on the hill. As if, in the presence of the sea, We dried our nets and mended sail
 1
Tattoo

The light is like a spider. It crawls over the water. It crawls over the edges of the sn… It crawls under your eyelids And spreads its webs there—
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,
Bantams in Pine-Woods

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caf… Of tan with henna hackles, halt! Damned universal cock, as if the s… Was blackamoor to bear your blazin… Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the per…
Large Red Man Reading

There were ghosts that returned to… As he sat there reading, aloud, th… They were those from the wildernes… There were those that returned to… Of the pans above the stove, the p…
The Plot Against the Giant

First Girl When this yokel comes maundering, Whetting his hacker, I shall run before him, Diffusing the civilest odors
The Idea of Order at Key West

She sang beyond the genius of the… The water never formed to mind or… Like a body wholly body, flutterin… Its empty sleeves; and yet its mim… Made constant cry, caused constant…



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