Granted, we die for good.
Life, then, is largely a thing
Of happens to like, not should.
And that, too, granted, why
Do I happen to like red bush,
Grey grass and green-gray sky?
What else remains? But red,
Gray, green, why those of all?
That is not what I said:
Not those of all. But those.
One likes what one happens to like.
One likes the way red grows.
It cannot matter at all.
Happens to like is one
Of the ways things happen to fall.
Wallace Stevens's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Table Talk by Wallace Stevens )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Between the lines, Dr PJ Raj Kamal
- Common Crow, Prasad Natarajan
- Silver Twine, Prasad Natarajan
- Concrete Fill, Prasad Natarajan
- Sonnet # 512, Luis Estable
- In born, hasmukh amathalal
- Sonnet # 511, Luis Estable
- Point for struggle, hasmukh amathalal
- Good lien, hasmukh amathalal
- Darkness Surrounds, Shalom Freedman