all nearness pauses

Great Smoky Mountains at Twilight

This is one of my all time favorite poems. It was written by e.e.cummings:



all nearness pauses, while a star can grow

all distance breathes a final dream of bells;

perfectly outlined against afterglow

are all amazing and the peaceful hills


(not where not here but neither’s blue most both)

and history immeasurably is

wealthier by a single sweet day’s death:

as not imagined secrecies comprise

goldenly huge whole the upfloating moon.

Times a strange fellow;

                                                    more he gives

than takes

(and he takes all)nor any marvel finds

quite disappearance but some keener makes

losing, gaining —

                                               love! if a world ends

more than all worlds begin to(see?) begin




e e cummings (USA, 1894-1962)


moon and reflection unknown photographer



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