After the final no there comes a yes / And on that yes the future world depends.
Wallace StevensStichwörter: wisdom poetry the-future
I still feel the need of some imperishable bliss.
Wallace StevensStichwörter: poetry wallace-stevens sunday-morning
Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts it becomes an epidemic. p901
Wallace StevensIt is necessary to any originality to have the courage to be an amateur.
Wallace StevensStichwörter: originality courage
Man is an eternal sophomore.
Wallace StevensThirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
Stichwörter: blackbird
They said, "You have a blue guitar, you do not play things as they are." The man replied, "Things as they are are changed upon the blue guitar.
Wallace StevensFrom this the poem springs: that we live in a place
That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves
And hard it is in spite of blazoned days.
Stichwörter: poetry
We must endure our thoughts all night, until the bright obvious stands motionless in cold.
Wallace Stevensthe lion sleeps in the sun.
its nose on its paws.
it can kill a man.
Stichwörter: poetry lions wallace-stevens poetry-is-a-destructive-force
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