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somewhere i have never travelled ( ^; W1 o' z/ ~* x: |
by E. E. Cummings
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somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond$ z( O* r/ H9 l- [4 ~
any experience,your eyes have their silence:9 |# i6 G J: |" i& s& m: m
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,- d, x' t# k" E* {2 J+ [
or which i cannot touch because they are too near5 t& f6 M1 D- C8 {* w) U- N$ j
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your slightest look easily will unclose me' I: M% C( f# W9 V9 C* a1 [
though i have closed myself as fingers,. r# n- h2 \1 H4 H' m! u8 ~4 k o
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens0 t! `) y2 h( c9 s, l! A- B) `5 D
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
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or if your wish be to close me, i and
* y8 U" t( D5 `, Qmy life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
, A/ q- h2 ^0 k7 t/ Jas when the heart of this flower imagines7 n+ E; I- o1 U0 E, W t N" B! O' |0 W
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
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nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals' p* S# ] p& t1 b- A) I" U
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
4 ]( v% l, |# N% r k9 {compels me with the color of its countries,5 i' e( H) E8 |
rendering death and forever with each breathing
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(i do not know what it is about you that closes
) S; T5 t3 T7 Gand opens;only something in me understands
[+ I8 X1 v( M- b( Othe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
w& a0 m6 s/ P3 S/ L6 @nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
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