Is 5/THREE

by E. E. Cummings

THREE

now that fierce few
flowers (stealthily)
in the alive west
begin

requiescat this six
feet of Breton big good
body, which terminated
in fists hair wood

erect cursing hatless who
(bent by wind)slammed hard-
over the tiller;clattered
forward skidding in outrageous

sabots language trickling
pried his black
mouth with fat jibing
lips,

once upon a
(that is
over: and the sea heaving
indolent colourless forgets) time

Requiescat.
carry
carefully the blessed large silent him
into nibbling final worms

Among
Among  these
Among these  red pieces of
day (against which and
quite silently hills
made of blueandgreen paper

scorchbend ingthem
-selves-U
pcurv E,into:
pcurv E,into: anguish(clim
b)ing
s-p-i-r-a-
l
 and,disappear)
 and,disappear) Satanic and blasé

a black goat lookingly wanders

There is nothing left of the world but
into this noth
ing il treno per
Roma si-gnori?
jerk.
ilyr,ushes

it is winter a moon in the afternoon
and warm air turning into January darkness up
through which sprouting gently, the cathedral
leans its dreamy spine against thick sunset

i perceive in front of our lady a ring of people
a brittle swoon of centrifugally expecting
faces clumsily which devours a man, three cats,
five white mice, and a baboon.

On a monkey with a sharp face waddling carefully
the length of this padded pole; a monkey attached
by a chain securely to this always talking
individual, mysterious witty hatless.

Cats which move smoothly from neck to neck of bottles, cats
smoothly willowing out and in between bottles,who step smoothly
and rapidly along this pole over five squirming
mice; or leap through hoops of fire, creating smoothness.

People stare, the drunker applaud
while twilight takes the sting out of the vermilion
jacket of nodding hairy Jaqueline who is given a mouse
to hold lovingly,

our lady whatdoyouthink of this? Do your proud fingers and
your arms tremble remembering something squirming fragile
and which had been presented unto you by a mystery?
. . . .the cathedral recedes into weather without answering

impossibly

motivated by midnight
the flyspecked abdominous female
indubitably tellurian
strolls
strolls emitting minute grins

each an intaglio.
Nothing
has also carved upon her much

too white forehead a pair of
eyes which mutter thickly(as one merely
terriculous American an instant doubts
the authenticity

of these antiquities—relaxing
of these antiquities—relaxing hurries

elsewhere;to blow

incredible wampum

inthe,exquisite;

morning sure lyHer eye s exactly sit,ata little roundtable
among otherlittle roundtables Her,eyes count slow(ly

obstre poroustimidi ties surElyfl)oat iNg,the

ofpieces ofof sunligh tof fa l l in gof throughof treesOf.

(Fields Elysian

the like,a)slEEping neck a breathing a ,lies
(slo wlythe wom an pa)ris her
flesh:wakes
flesh:wakes in little streets

while exactlygir lisHlegs;play;ing;nake;D
and

chairs wait under the trees

Fields slowly Elysian in
a firmcool-Ness taxis,s.QuirM

and, b etw ee nch air st ott er s thesillyold
WomanSellingBaloonS

In theex qui site

morning,
morning, her sureLyeye s sit-ex actly her sitsat a surely!little,
roundtable amongother; littleexactly round. tables,

Her
Her .eyes

candles and

Here Comes a glass box
which the exhumed
hand of Saint Ignatz miraculously
inhabits. (people tumble
down. people crumble to their
knees. people
begin crossing people) and

hErE cOmEsa glass box:
surrounded by priests
moving in fifty colours
,sensuously

(the crowd
howls faintly
blubbering pointing

see
yes)
It
here
comes

A Glass
Box and incense with

and oh sunlight—
the crash of the
colours (of the oh
silently
striding) priests-and-
slowly,al,ways;procession:and

Enters

this
this  church,

toward which The
Expectant stutter(upon artificial limbs,
with faces like defunct geraniums)

Paris;this April sunset completely utters
utters serenely silently a cathedral

before whose upward lean magnificent face
the streets turn young with rain,

spiral acres of bloated rose
coiled within cobalt miles of sky
yield to and heed
the mauve
the mauve of twilight (who slenderly descends,
daintily carrying in her eyes the dangerous first stars)
people move love hurry in a gently

arriving gloom and
see! (the new moon
fills abruptly with sudden silver
these torn pockets of lame and begging colour) while
there and here the lithe indolent prostitute
Night,argues

with certain houses

will out of the kindness of their hearts a few philoso-
phers tell me
what am i doing on top of this hill at Calchidas, in the
sunlight?
down ever so far on the beach below me a little girl in
white spins,tumbles; rolling in sand.
across this water,crowding tints:browns and whites
shoving,the dotting millions of windows of thou-
sands of houses—Lisboa. Like the crackle of a
typewriter,in the afternoon sky.
goats and sheep are driven by somebody along a curve
of road which eats into a pink cliff back and up
leaning out of yellowgreen water.

they are building a house down there by the sea,in the
afternoon.

rapidly a reddish ant travels my fifth finger.
a bird chirps in a tree,somewhere nowhere
and a little girl in white is tumbling
in sand
in sand Clouds over
me are like bridegrooms

Naked and luminous
Naked and luminous (here the absurd I; life, to peer
Naked and luminous and wear clothes. i am alto-
Naked and luminous gether foolish, i suddenly
Naked and luminous make a fist out of ten fin-
Naked and luminous gers

voices rise from down ever so far—
hush.
hush. Sunlight,
hush. Sunlight, there are old men behind me I tell
hush. Sunlight, there you; several,incredible,sleepy

but observe;although
once is never the beginning of
enough, is it(i do not pretend
to know the reason any more than.) But look:up-

raising, hoisting, a little
perhaps that and this, deftly
propping on smallest hands
the slim hinging you
the slim hinging you —because
it’s five o’clock

and these(i notice) trees winterbrief surly old
gurgle a nonsense of sparrows, the cathedral
shudders blackening;
the sky is washed with tone

now for a moon
to squat in first darkness
—a little moon thinner than

memory

faint
-er
-er than all the whys
which lurk
between your naked shoulderblades.—Here

comes a stout fellow in a blouse
just outside this window, touching the glass

boxes one by one with his magic
stick(in which a willing

bulb of flame bubbles)
bulb of flame bubbles)‍see

here and here they explode
silently into crocuses of brightness. (That is enough
of life, for you. I understand. Once
again. . . .)sliding

a little downward, embrace me with your body’s suddenly
curving entire warm questions

sunlight was over
our mouths fears hearts lungs arms hopes feet hands

under us the unspeaking Mediterranean bluer
than we had imagined
a few cries drifting through
high air
a sail a fishing boat somebody an invisible spectator,
maybe certain nobodies laughing faintly

playing moving far below us

perhaps one villa caught like pieces
of a kite in the trees, here
and here reflecting
sunlight
(everywhere sunlight keen complete
silent

and everywhere you your kissesyour flesh mind breathing
beside under around myself)
beside under around myself)‍by and by

a fat colour reared itself against the sky and the sea

. . . finally your eyes knew
me, we smiled to each other, releasing lay, watching
(sprawling, in
grass upon a
cliff) what had been something
else carefully slowly fatally turning into ourselves. . .

while in the very middle of fire all

the world becoming bright and little melted.