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Слушать(AI)Poem Written at Morning
A sunny day's complete
Divide it from itself.
It is this or
And it is not.
By metaphor you paintA thing.
Thus, the pineapple was a leather fruit,
A fruit for pewter, thorned and palmed and blue,
To be served by men of ice.
The senses
By metaphor.
The juice was
Than wettest cinnamon.
It was cribled
Dripping a morning sap.
The truth must
That you do not see, you experience, you feel,
That the buxom eye brings merely its
To the total thing, a shapeless giant forced Upward.
Green were the curls upon that head.
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens (October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955) was an American modernist poet. He was born in Reading, Pennsylvania, educated at Harvard and
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