Books »somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

by E.E. Cummings (1931)

There are few poems that I’ll carry with me through my entire life and somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond by ee cummings is one of them.

I can recall copying this down in a junior high journal (“nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands” still makes me sigh inside). I was very, very romantic back then, as I’m sure most girls were at that age. Strangely, now that I live with the love of my life, my interest in things romantic has dwindled… I guess reality is just too good to compare to fiction. The poem was published in the collection Viva.

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 skilfully,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 color 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

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Posted on February 7, 2010

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