Wallace Stevens - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird lyrics
[Wallace Stevens - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird lyrics]
Among twenty snowy mountains
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird
I was of three minds, like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds
It was a small part of the pantomime
A man and a woman are one
A man and a woman and a blackbird are one
I do not know which to prefer
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes
The blackbird whistling or just after
Icicles 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
O 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?
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms
But I know, too
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know
When the blackbird flew out of sight
It marked the edge of one of many circles
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply
He rode over Connecticut in a glass coach
Once, a fear pierced him, in that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage for blackbirds
The river is moving
The blackbird must be flying
It was evening all afternoon it was snowing
And it was going to snow the blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird
I was of three minds, like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds
It was a small part of the pantomime
A man and a woman are one
A man and a woman and a blackbird are one
I do not know which to prefer
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes
The blackbird whistling or just after
Icicles 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
O 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?
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms
But I know, too
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know
When the blackbird flew out of sight
It marked the edge of one of many circles
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply
He rode over Connecticut in a glass coach
Once, a fear pierced him, in that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage for blackbirds
The river is moving
The blackbird must be flying
It was evening all afternoon it was snowing
And it was going to snow the blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs