I <br />An old man sits <br />In the shadow of a pine tree <br />In China. <br />He sees larkspur, <br />Blue and white, <br />At the edge of the shadow, <br />Move in the wind. <br />His beard moves in the wind. <br />The pine tree moves in the wind. <br />Thus water flows <br />Over weeds. <br /> <br /> II <br />The night is of the colour <br />Of a woman's arm: <br />Night, the female, <br />Obscure, <br />Fragrant and supple, <br />Conceals herself. <br />A pool shines, <br />Like a bracelet <br />Shaken in a dance. <br /> <br /> III <br />I measure myself <br />Against a tall tree. <br />I find that I am much taller, <br />For I reach right up to the sun, <br />With my eye; <br />And I reach to the shore of the sea <br />With my ear. <br />Nevertheless, I dislike <br />The way ants crawl <br />In and out of my shadow. <br /> <br /> IV <br />When my dream was near the moon, <br />The white folds of its gown <br />Filled with yellow light. <br />The soles of its feet <br />Grew red. <br />Its hair filled <br />With certain blue crystallizations <br />From stars, <br />Not far off. <br /> <br /> V <br />Not all the knives of the lamp-posts, <br />Nor the chisels of the long streets, <br />Nor the mallets of the domes <br />And high towers, <br />Can carve <br />What one star can carve, <br />Shining through the grape-leaves. <br /> <br /> VI <br />Rationalists, wearing square hats, <br />Think, in square rooms, <br />Looking at the floor, <br />Looking at the ceiling. <br />They confine themselves <br />To right-angled triangles. <br />If they tried rhomboids, <br />Cones, waving lines, ellipses -- <br />As, for example, the ellipse of the half-moon -- <br />Rationalists would wear sombreros.<br /><br />Wallace Stevens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/six-significant-landscapes/
