somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

love's function is to fabricate unknownness

(known being wishless;but love, all of wishing)

though life's lived wrongsideout,sameness chokes oneness

truth is confused with fact,fish boast of fishing

and men are caught by worms(love may not care

if time totters,light droops,all measures bend

nor marvel if a thought should weigh a star

—dreads dying least;and less,that death should end)

how lucky lovers are)whose selves abide

under whatever shall discovered be)

whose ignorant each breathing dares to hide

more than most fabulous wisdom fears to see

(who laugh and cry)who dream,create and kill

while the world moves;and every part stands still:

1894 –1962

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that no one loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

-SOBRE A HONORIA (FILHA DE CHARLIES)

-SOBRE O POEMA 'ANYONE LIVED IN A PRETTY HOW TOWN

-NOTAS DO POEMA 'I WILL WADE OUT'.

• the characters presents the paralells that the city have; EX: she is paralysized, lives like a caged animal. Caged animal is a metaphor, the cage is representation of Dublin and the relationship the place and Eveline.

• all was superficial in order to maintain a certain normality;

• Dublin has a society that do not evolve;

• The narrator is precised saying that she lives with her violent father (a narcissist). Eveline is a slave living to work and maintain her father. He is also addicted to alcohol.

• 
  

Whenever in this city, screens flicker

with pornography, with science-fiction vampires,

victimized hirelings bending to the lash,

we also have to walk . . . if simply as we walk

through the rainsoaked garbage, the tabloid cruelties

of our own neighborhoods.

We need to grasp our lives inseparable

from those rancid dreams, that blurt of metal, those disgraces,

and the red begonia perilously flashing

from a tenement sill six stories high,

or the long-legged young girls playing ball

in the junior highschool playground.

No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees,

sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air,

dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding,

our animal passion rooted in the city.

Reflects about how love brings pain (conflicts not just in the relationship, but also in our society, leaving scars on us)

The sexual expectation

Daily cruelties and facing them (keep going)

Love and relationship is not separable from reality (bad things in society have everything to do with us)

We are real

“how town” - the way they all live/it all happens

following just a specific path

focused on appearances

they are shallow/mediocre

they are all the same

it’s about what society wants them to be

children = their spirits have not been broken (yet)

I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.

Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other,

you’ve been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed:

our friend the poet comes into my room

where I’ve been writing for days,

drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,

and I want to show her one poem

which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,

and wake. You’ve kissed my hair

to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,

I say, a poem I wanted to show someone . . .

and I laugh and fall dreaming again

of the desire to show you to everyone I love,

to move openly together

in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,

which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.

against society

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

Cummings se relaciona com o poema de Lorde ao expor em seu poema o poder feminino demonstrado pela força do erotismo, de conhecer a si mesmo e usar esta ferramenta como uma maneira de acabar com a opressão social imposta sobre as mulheres. Ele abraça a causa feminina e apoia a força advinda disso.

Além disso ele compara os corpos das mulheres relacionando-os com a natureza: flowers, sun, moon, etc, e encontra sentido e se sente completo amando as 'sea-girls': 'Will i complete the mystery' dando prazer a elas.

- SparkNotes Full Plot Summary

- Video Analysis 1

- Video Analysis 2

Charlie Wales (35) returns to Paris after being away for (presumably) a year and a half of seeking and maintaining sobriety. He seeks to get in touch with his sister-in-law Marion Peters and her husband Lincoln Peters, who currently have legal guardianship of Honoria Wales (9) since her mother Helen passed away and Charlie went away to a sanitarium to seek his sobriety. The story unfolds around Charlie's attempts to convince Marion to give Honoria's guardianship back to him.

Throughout the story, Charlie meets with Duncan Schaeffer and Lorraine Quarrles again. However, he doesn't seem too excited for this encounter, since Duncan and Lorraine seem to still be living a life of drinking and partying - which is what Charlie is recovering from after Helen's passing.

Though young, Honoria knows she wants to live with her father again, and this makes Charlie both happy and hopeful. Marion, however, doesn't seem to take this much into consideration regarding giving back her guardianship. She blames Charlie for the passing of her sister Helen, and was never really fond of him, which makes the whole process much more difficult for Charlie, who needs to show and convince Marion not only of his sobriety, but also of his capability to take proper care of Honoria.

One evening, while at Marion and Lincoln's house to discuss Honoria's guardianship, Charlie gets a visit from Duncan and Lorraine (both drunk) who came over to invite him for dinner since Charlie left the Peters' address at the bar exactly so they could visit him. Because of Marion's thoughts on Charlie, the discussion was already leaning towards her side more than his, and the surprise visit only made things more difficult. Marion was upset and decided to postpone the whole conversation, pushing the topic aside.

Though Marion was almost giving in and accepting to give Honoria's guardianship back to Charlie, the surprise visit only made her upset and reminded her of an aspect of Charlie's past she doesn't like. Once the couple left, angry that Charlie wouldn't have dinner with them, Marion also left to her room. She let Lincoln know she changed her mind about the matter, and he then let Charlie know.

The story ends with Charlie at the bar, thinking back on his past with Helen. He calls Lincoln to talk about Honoria, but gets the answer that this conversation was to be postponed for around six months. Upset, he returns to the bar and thinks about how the only thing he can currently do for Honoria is buying her things, though he understands is not ideal, but he wants and will come back for her.