Outside my window
lies a quiet world
brimming with blue
blue cars,
blue buildings
- even -
blue roads and trees
it's 7: 35pm
all the world's
a shiny sapphire
of endless facets
and hues
but I know
the morning will be
so un-blue
the world will spin anew
and with the rising of the sun,
repaint itself
This seems to be a double epiphany. First the sapphire tint of the earliest morning which (If I'm reading correctly) gets tarnished so you give it a new epiphany and voila there is the blue again. And blue is not only one of the necessary colors of the physical spectrum, it is the color of THE IMAGINATON in Wallace Stevens' poetry (and he watches over our poetry from his heavenly abode.) And I mean this W. Stevens analogy with the highest regard for your poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Blue is my favourite colour and blue flowers have a strange intensity in the Evening. I love the use of colour in verse and this is a really good poem Tom Billsborough