'Sunday Morning' by Wallace Stevens
AI and Tech Aggregator
Download Mp3s Free
Tears of the Kingdom Roleplay
Best Free University Courses Online
TOTK Roleplay
1
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound.
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.
2
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
3
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
4
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
5
She says, "But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss."
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.
6
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
7
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.
8
She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
Editor 1 Interpretation
"Sunday Morning" by Wallace Stevens: A Journey into the Depths of Human Consciousness
Have you ever experienced a moment of profound contemplation, a moment where you find yourself adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions, wondering about the meaning and purpose of life? Wallace Stevens' "Sunday Morning" is a poem that captures such a moment, taking us on a journey into the depths of human consciousness, exploring themes of religion, mortality, and the search for meaning in a world that seems devoid of it.
Context and Structure
Before delving into the poem itself, it's important to understand the context in which it was written. "Sunday Morning" was first published in 1915, a time when the world was undergoing significant changes. The modernist movement was in full swing, and artists and writers were breaking away from traditional forms and exploring new ways of expression. Stevens himself was a lawyer turned poet, and his work often reflects his fascination with the power of language and its ability to shape our understanding of the world.
The poem is structured into seven stanzas, each with a varying number of lines, and no consistent rhyme scheme. The lack of rhyme and meter gives the poem a free-flowing, stream-of-consciousness feel, mirroring the speaker's wandering thoughts. The use of enjambment, where lines carry over into the next without punctuation, also contributes to this effect, creating a sense of fluidity and movement.
Analysis
The poem begins with a description of a woman resting on a Sunday morning, contemplating the beauty of the natural world around her. The speaker describes her as "Complacencies of the peignoir, and late / Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair," creating a sense of leisure and comfort. However, the idyllic scene is soon disrupted by the presence of death, personified as "Death, the gray mocker," who reminds the woman of her mortality and the impermanence of all things.
From here, the poem takes a more philosophical turn, with the speaker exploring the role of religion and the search for meaning in a world without God. The woman questions the need for organized religion, asking "Why should she give her bounty to the dead? / What is divinity if it can come / Only in silent shadows and in dreams?" The speaker suggests that the woman is struggling to reconcile her desire for spiritual connection with the reality of a world that seems to offer no answers.
Stevens uses a variety of literary devices to convey this sense of uncertainty and questioning. The repetition of the word "death" throughout the poem creates a sense of unease and foreshadows the woman's ultimate realization that there is no afterlife. The use of imagery, such as "blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz" to describe the bees outside the window, creates a sense of disorientation and confusion, mirroring the woman's own state of mind.
However, the poem is not entirely bleak. Despite the absence of God, the speaker suggests that there is still beauty and meaning to be found in the natural world. He describes the woman seeing "in the sun / Gold beats on the drum of the ear," suggesting that nature itself can be a source of spiritual connection and transcendence.
Interpretation
So what does it all mean? "Sunday Morning" can be read as a meditation on the human condition, exploring our eternal search for meaning and connection in a world that often seems indifferent to our existence. The woman's questioning of religion and the afterlife reflects a broader trend in modernist thought, which rejected the traditional religious and moral frameworks that had guided society for centuries.
At the same time, the poem suggests that there is still beauty and wonder to be found in the natural world. The woman's appreciation of nature, despite her doubts, offers a glimmer of hope in an otherwise uncertain world. The poem can be seen as a call to embrace the present moment, to find meaning and purpose in the here and now, rather than constantly searching for answers that may never come.
Conclusion
"Sunday Morning" is a complex and thought-provoking poem that invites readers to explore some of the deepest questions of human existence. By using a free-flowing structure and a variety of literary devices, Stevens creates a sense of wandering thought that mirrors the speaker's own journey of contemplation. The poem offers no easy answers, but suggests that there is still beauty and meaning to be found in the natural world, even in the absence of God. Ultimately, "Sunday Morning" is a testament to the power of language and poetry to capture the complexities of human consciousness and to offer a glimpse into the mysteries of existence.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Sunday Morning: A Poem of Philosophical Reflection
Wallace Stevens' "Sunday Morning" is a poem that explores the human experience of life, death, and the search for meaning. The poem is a meditation on the nature of existence, and the role of religion and spirituality in our lives. It is a complex and multi-layered work that requires careful analysis to fully appreciate its depth and complexity.
The poem begins with a description of a woman waking up on a Sunday morning. The woman is described as being "complacent" and "content," enjoying the simple pleasures of life. She is surrounded by the beauty of nature, and the poem describes the "blue and green" of the world around her. The woman is not religious, and the poem suggests that she finds her own sense of spirituality in the natural world.
As the poem progresses, the woman begins to reflect on the nature of existence. She wonders about the meaning of life, and whether there is any purpose to our existence. She questions the role of religion in our lives, and whether it is necessary for us to find meaning and purpose. The poem suggests that the woman is searching for something more than the simple pleasures of life, and that she is looking for a deeper sense of meaning and purpose.
The poem then shifts to a discussion of religion and spirituality. The woman reflects on the role of religion in our lives, and whether it is necessary for us to find meaning and purpose. The poem suggests that religion is a human invention, created to help us make sense of the world around us. However, the poem also suggests that religion can be a source of comfort and solace in times of need.
The poem then turns to a discussion of death and the afterlife. The woman reflects on the inevitability of death, and wonders what happens to us after we die. She questions the idea of an afterlife, and whether it is possible for us to continue to exist in some form after we die. The poem suggests that death is a natural part of life, and that we should not fear it. Instead, we should embrace life and live it to the fullest.
The poem concludes with a reflection on the beauty of the natural world. The woman is surrounded by the beauty of nature, and the poem suggests that this beauty is a source of comfort and solace. The poem suggests that we should appreciate the beauty of the world around us, and find meaning and purpose in the simple pleasures of life.
Overall, "Sunday Morning" is a complex and multi-layered work that explores the human experience of life, death, and the search for meaning. The poem suggests that we should find our own sense of spirituality in the natural world, and that we should appreciate the beauty of the world around us. The poem also suggests that religion can be a source of comfort and solace, but that it is not necessary for us to find meaning and purpose in our lives. Ultimately, the poem encourages us to embrace life and live it to the fullest, even in the face of death.
Editor Recommended Sites
AI ML Startup Valuation: AI / ML Startup valuation information. How to value your companyDevops Automation: Software and tools for Devops automation across GCP and AWS
Coin Exchange - Crypto Exchange List & US Crypto Exchanges: Interface with crypto exchanges to get data and realtime updates
Run Kubernetes: Kubernetes multicloud deployment for stateful and stateless data, and LLMs
Dev Flowcharts: Flow charts and process diagrams, architecture diagrams for cloud applications and cloud security. Mermaid and flow diagrams
Recommended Similar Analysis
Never Bet The Devil Your Head - A Tale With A Moral by Edgar Allen Poe analysisPains Of Sleep, The by Samuel Taylor Coleridge analysis
Little Boy Lost, The by William Blake analysis
Nurse's Song (Innocence) by William Blake analysis
Days by Ralph Waldo Emerson analysis
Butterfly by D.H. Lawrence analysis
UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES by Robert Herrick analysis
Two Look at Two by Robert Lee Frost analysis
The Destruction Of Sennacherib by Lord Byron analysis
Let America Be America Again by Langston Hughes analysis