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Слушать(AI)Valley Candle
My candle burned alone in an immense valley.
Beams of the huge night converged upon it,
Until the wind blew.
The beams of the huge
Converged upon its image,
Until the wind blew.
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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Phases
I There’s a little square in Paris, Waiting until we pass They sit idly there,
Domination Of Black
At night, by the fire, The colors of the And of the fallen leaves, Repeating themselves,
What is Divinity
What is divinity if it can Only in silent shadows and in dreams Shall she not find in comforts of the sun, In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or
Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour
Light the first light of In which we rest and, for small reason, The world imagined is the ultimate good This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous
