floria
09-29-2005, 06:50 PM
The palm at the end of the mind
Beyond the last though, rises
In the bronze decor,
A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.
You know then that is not the reason
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feather shines.
The palm stands at the edge of the space.
The wind moves slowly through the branches.
The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.
Wallace Stevens
______
love this poem... just came to share it with everyone~ *^_^*
Beyond the last though, rises
In the bronze decor,
A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.
You know then that is not the reason
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feather shines.
The palm stands at the edge of the space.
The wind moves slowly through the branches.
The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.
Wallace Stevens
______
love this poem... just came to share it with everyone~ *^_^*