Frasi di Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
Data di nascita: 2. Ottobre 1879
Data di morte: 2. Agosto 1955
Wallace Stevens è stato un poeta statunitense.
Frasi Wallace Stevens
„That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.“
— Wallace Stevens, libro Harmonium
"Gubbinal"
Harmonium (1923)
Contesto: p>That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.The world is ugly,
And the people are sad..</p
„We live in an old chaos of the sun.“
— Wallace Stevens, libro Harmonium
"Sunday Morning"
Harmonium (1923)
Contesto: We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or an old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Contesto: We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or an old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction (1942), It Must Change
„What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?“
— Wallace Stevens, libro Harmonium
"Sunday Morning"
Harmonium (1923)
— Wallace Stevens, libro Harmonium
"Gubbinal"
Harmonium (1923)
„Perhaps
The truth depends on a walk around a lake“
Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction (1942), It Must Be Abstract
Contesto: p>Perhaps
The truth depends on a walk around a lake,A composing as the body tires, a stop
To see hepatica, a stop to watch
A definition growing certain andA wait within that certainty, a rest
In the swags of pine-trees bordering the lake.
Perhaps there are times of inherent excellence</p
„Out of nothing to have come on major weather,“
Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction (1942), It Must Give Pleasure
Contesto: p>But to impose is not
To discover. To discover an order as of
A season, to discover summer and know it, To discover winter and know it well, to find
Not to impose, not to have reasoned at all,
Out of nothing to have come on major weather,It is possible, possible, possible. It must
Be possible. It must be that in time
The real will from its crude compoundings come,Seeming at first, a beast disgorged, unlike,
Warmed by a desperate milk. To find the real,
To be stripped of every fiction except one,The fiction of an absolute — Angel,
Be silent in your luminous cloud and hear
The luminous melody of proper sound.
