Chinese Paper Knife
For the first time ever, and only now
(Long waiting where I should see)
The tiny carved bird, the bony bough
Start sharp into life for me.
Why not until now, why suddenly now
This recognition? Replies
The bird must know who from that bough
Holds me with staring eyes:
The owl once more, but this time found
In foliage strange to me.
Fantastic branches warp around
From the scaly uptwisting tree.
A trifle, ah yes: but the carver achieved
A forest dream where flies
In and out the boughs so various-leaved
This bird with the pinhead eyes.
Then praised be this today whose light
Revealed this fabulous tree
And original owl, which many a night
Will lead into mystery.
Edmund Blunden's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Chinese Paper Knife by Edmund Blunden )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Christina Georgina Rossetti
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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