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9.4
/10
(18
votes)
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it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be, i say if this should be --
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face, and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
ee cummings
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Read poems about / on: happiness, silence, hair, lost, heart, time
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ee cummings
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Don Butts
(5/9/2009 12:52:00 PM) |
The last two lines of that poem have always struck me as one of the most profound images of despair in poetry.
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Danielle Nguyen
(6/13/2006 11:47:00 AM) |
This poem is tragic in a greatly understated, undramatic way. Perhaps even more so in the eyes of someone who has paralleled the woman's perspective. It is so simple, yet so powerful.
One of my favorite Cummings poems, without question.
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ee cummings
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