no one,not even the rain,has such small hands

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 flowers imagines

the rain 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 is is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes are deeper than all roses)
no one,not even the rain,has such small hands

Okej, så jag memorerade hela somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond av e.e. cummings, vilken är en av mina favoritdikter. Bry er inte om grammatiken är märklig, det är e.e. cummings finurliga påhitt att ha den så. Bry er inte heller om jag har skrivit hans grammatik på fel sätt, för den har jag inte orkat memorera.