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somewhere i have never travelled
3 Z" \* p& m1 X$ H4 I; r* qby E. E. Cummings1 \. g& r Y- Q9 T! z% l
2 T9 z9 |7 e6 H! e bsomewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
$ G3 I% X. J4 E' fany experience,your eyes have their silence:
! x" W2 b7 J& M) n9 `* t/ Vin your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
" g, e3 k3 z7 W: |6 sor which i cannot touch because they are too near# n$ T) A9 u$ \+ |0 N
5 R& ^, f6 l1 K5 V1 F' yyour slightest look easily will unclose me
4 ]8 E% ?& j& A4 [1 N4 Ithough i have closed myself as fingers,
* |$ |) {- ]' Q( U: p6 K5 Uyou open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens$ B* b+ R0 ]2 p; o/ |; C# j3 I
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
# l, z) P& c( M2 y3 b h
" H% A4 D1 Z7 x3 r+ Z/ ?% |+ Kor if your wish be to close me, i and
7 S4 D- q8 [! i" lmy life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,/ z; h0 {9 C( v7 r( D+ b- }- o
as when the heart of this flower imagines
) o; _( b z4 F3 x4 t1 a4 f8 L' wthe snow carefully everywhere descending;
% A+ [3 P9 D4 t$ c* G% L ?% h8 r, ]: R2 u$ m
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
$ | m& {% F0 }5 i+ I: ^# ^the power of your intense fragility:whose texture' V9 M% H, ?) o6 O* G H
compels me with the color of its countries,
' p; r- u( c0 ] ?/ P, jrendering death and forever with each breathing
( _$ N$ O- t5 J2 }! `) @1 ^' }! U" U
(i do not know what it is about you that closes! w9 l; n$ {" ?- F u/ r( J
and opens;only something in me understands$ |- a8 V6 L" g6 x( J* s g* _
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
* E" c* l* H+ q- `0 g$ Cnobody,not even the rain,has such small hands" F) E6 g: `* b% \2 `% O3 t
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