Poem by Edward Estlin Cummings

* * *

I have seen her stealthily frail
flower walking with its fellows in the death
of light,against whose enormous curve of flesh
exactly cubes of tiny fragrance try;
i have watched certain petals rapidly wish
in the corners of her youth;whom,fiercely shy
and gently brutal,the prettiest wrath
of blossoms dishevelling made a pale
fracas upon the accurate moon....
Across the important gardens her body
will come toward me with its hurting sexual smell
of lilies....beyond night’s silken immense swoon
the moon is like a floating silver hell
a song of adolescent ivory.

1. if learned darkness from our searched world
2. O Thou to whom the musical white spring
3. when unto nights of autumn do complain
4. this is the garden:colours come and go
5. come nothing to my comparable soul

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