Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird.

That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sa…

A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one.

That strange flower, the sun, Is just what you say. Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad.

These be Three silent things: The falling snow...the hour Before the dawn...the mouth of one Just dead.

To know that no one before you has seen an organ you are examining, to trace relationships that have occurred to no one before, to immerse yourself in the wond…

I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still.