Olga, Maybe E.E. Cummings has one of my favourite poems of the english language. I'ts called "Somewhere I have never Travelled" and it really touches my soul when I read it. I'm a big fan of romantic poetry and I even got a blog just for that kind. Cummings has a very soft and smooth way of expressing his feelings. I never get tired of romantic poetry :). The poem 34 is also very beautiful and you are right strong love (and in my case the old one thick as a rock) never mind distance or cold or pain, love flushes like waves in a quiet sunny day, coming and going like a breath from our soul. Here ir is:
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
I’d like to know a little more about the people who read this blog. You are all unique and interesting and I am flattered that you enjoy reading my work.
Olga,
ReplyDeleteMaybe E.E. Cummings has one of my favourite poems of the english language. I'ts called "Somewhere I have never Travelled" and it really touches my soul when I read it. I'm a big fan of romantic poetry and I even got a blog just for that kind. Cummings has a very soft and smooth way of expressing his feelings. I never get tired of romantic poetry :). The poem 34 is also very beautiful and you are right strong love (and in my case the old one thick as a rock) never mind distance or cold or pain, love flushes like waves in a quiet sunny day, coming and going like a breath from our soul. Here ir is:
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
by E. E. Cummings
It's very beautiful, TI - thanks for sharing. I'm wondering if the word 'travel' there is just a coincidence.. :)
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