The boots of the men clump On the boards of the bridge. The… - Wallace Stevens

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The boots of the men clump On the boards of the bridge. The first white wall of the village Rises through fruit-trees. Of what was it I was thinking? So the meaning escapes.

Wallace Stevens

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About Wallace Stevens

Wallace Stevens (2 October 1879 – 2 August 1955) was an American modernist poet and businessman.

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Originators like Wallace Stevens:

William Carlos Williams T. S. Eliot James Joyce Czesław Miłosz Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Additional quotes by Wallace Stevens

There will never be an end
To this droning of the surf.

It took dominion everywhere. The jar was gray and bare. It did not give of bird or bush, Like nothing else in Tennessee.

So poisonous Are the ravishments of truth, so fatal to The truth itself, the first idea becomes The hermit in a poet’s metaphors, Who comes and goes and comes and goes all day.

The boots of the men clump On the boards of the bridge. The first white wall of the village Rises through fruit-trees. Of what was it I was thinking?… - Wallace Stevens

About Wallace Stevens

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