Tuesday, April 27, 2010

National Poetry Month - e.e. cummings

"Poetry and every other art was and is and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality."    
~ e.e. cummings



Self-portrait by e.e. cummings

The Paintings of e.e. cummings

 
 
 
All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the merry deer ran before. 

Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
the swift sweet deer
the red rare deer. 

Four red roebuck at a white water
the cruel bugle sang before. 

Horn at hip went my love riding
riding the echo down
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the level meadows ran before. 

Softer be they than slippered sleep
the lean lithe deer
the fleet flown deer. 

Four fleet does at a gold valley
the famished arrow sang before. 

Bow at belt went my love riding
riding the mountain down
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the sheer peaks ran before. 

Paler be they than daunting death
the sleek slim deer
the tall tense deer. 

Four tell stags at a green mountain
the lucky hunter sang before. 

All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
my heart fell dead before.


7 comments:

  1. I love e.e. cummings! I hadn't read this one, though; nice choice.

    -UM

    ReplyDelete
  2. He's my favorite poet - and I didn't know he painted either!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Yet another example of the multi-talented genius. Lovely poem and painting.

    ReplyDelete
  4. One of my favorite poets - I didn't know hw painted!

    Here is one my favorites of his:

    maggie and milly and molly and may
    went down to the beach (to play one day)

    and maggie discovered a shell that sang
    so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, and

    milly befriended a stranded star
    whose rays five languid fingers were;

    and molly was chased by a horrible thing
    which raced sideways while blowing bubbles; and

    may came home with a smooth round stone
    as small as a world and as large as alone.

    For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
    it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Steve, that is one of my favorites of his as well! I love (love love love) the last few lines. Once, in a naive moment, I thought I might get a small tattoo of either the line "as small as a world and as large as alone," or else the last couplet. But I quickly dropped the idea for the sake of my dear mother (Sphinx), who no doubt lies in bed each night and prays to the Pagan gods that neither my sister nor I ever stamp her fine work with inky obscenities...or even with inky poetry by a true genius.

    ...In her defense, it is literally the one thing she has been overbearing about in her parenting. ;-)

    IN ANY CASE, a beautiful poem, for which I share your fondness, Mr. Emery.

    -U

    ReplyDelete

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