Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges,
Into twenty villages,
Or one man
Crossing a single bridge into a village.
This is old song
That will not declare itself . . .
Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are
Twenty men crossing a bridge
Into a village.
That will not declare itself
Yet is certain as meaning . . .
The boots of the men clump
On the boards of the bridge.
The first white wall of the village
Rises through fruit-trees.
Of what was it I was thinking?
So the meaning escapes.
The first white wall of the village . . .
The fruit-trees . . .
--by Wallace Stevens
1 comment:
I really believe the philosophy of this. The opening stanza is such a wonderful thing.
The sad state of things... Stevens writing today would, most likely, never see print. He was so removed from the literary world. Well, he was his own world.
Thanks for posting.
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