Past masters: E.E. Cummings

Image from wikipedia

And no, he didn’t generally sign his name in lower case. He did so now and then, often to show humility, so decades of obsessed high-school readers decided that must be the way he signed it all the time.

That said, this is my favorite poem of his. Lucy’s Football (read her blog, folks, it’s awesome) put me in mind of this today.

You are tired, (I think)

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

One Comment on “Past masters: E.E. Cummings”

  1. Cummings is one my favorite transcendentalist poets. His ability to blend the natural image with life is something I’ve tried to emulate on a couple of occasions. Tried but never mastered. Great choice of his work.

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