Somewhere I have never travelled
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, you eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which I cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will unclose me
thouhg i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life wish shut very beatuifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of flowers imagines
the snow descending carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power fo your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what ii is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
Does anyone know who this poem is written by?
it seems familiar... dunno why... sry cant help ya.
have u tried searching google?
Google says it's E.E. Cummings.
I guess that makes sence since the handwriting is poor as usual. Damn poetic license...
Heh, yeah thanks, it is E.E. cummings. It's a very beatiful poem, is it not? I believe the gramma is pretty trivial, compared to the overwhelming feeling given by the poem, and it's author. I'm also thinking about putting it into a love letter of sorts, or maybe reading it to a female that I feel very deeply for.
I didn't read it. All I did was copy the first line and did a goggle-I'm-feeling-lucky search. You are a very lazy bum.