the glory is fallen out of
the sky the last immortal
leaf
is
 
dead and the gold
year
a formal spasm
in the
 
dust
this is the passing of all shining things
therefore we also
blandly
 
into receptive
earth,O let
us
descend
 
take
shimmering wind
these fragile splendors from
us crumple them hide
 
them in thy breath drive
them in nothingness
for we
would sleep
 
this is the passing of all shining things
no lingering no backward-
wondering be unto
us O
 
soul,but straight
glad feet fearruining
and glorygirded
faces
 
lead us
into the
serious
steep
 
darkness

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by E. E. Cummings...

Some poets who follow E. E. Cummings...

Erica Faith Christina McClain Raquel Cano Cardona Berlinn Berlin Dusmoros Gonzalo