| Thirteen 
                    Ways of Looking at a Blackbird Wallace 
                    Stevens  IAmong twenty snowy mountains,
 The only moving thing
 Was the eye of the blackbird.
  
                    III was of three minds,
 Like a tree
 In which there are three blackbirds,
 IIIThe blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
 It was a small part of the pantomime.
 IVA man and a woman
 Are one.
 A man and a woman and a blackbird
 Are one.
  
                    VI do not know which to prefer,
 The beauty of inflections
 Or the beauty of innuendoes,
 The blackbird whistling
 Or just after.
 VIIcicles 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
 VIIO 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?
 VIIII know noble accents
 And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
 But I know, too,
 That the blackbird is involved
 In what I know.
 IXWhen the blackbird flew out of sight,
 It marked the edge
 Of one of many circles.
 XAt the sight of blackbirds
 Flying in a green light,
 Even the bawds of euphony
 Would cry out sharply.
 XIHe rode over Connecticut
 In a glass coach.
 Once, a fear pierced him,
 In that he mistook
 The shadow of his equipage
 For blackbirds.
 XIIThe river is moving.
 The blackbird must be flying.
 XIIIIt was evening all afternoon.
 It was snowing
 And it was going to snow.
 The blackbird sat
 In the cedar-limbs.
 From 
                    Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens by Wallace Stevens. 
                    Published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 1954 by 
                    Wallace Stevens.      |