Wallace Stevens, Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird (1917)

Wallace Stevens

Wallace Stevens (1879–1955), an important American modernist poet, was born in Reading, Pennsylvania, studied at Harvard University, and graduated from New York Law School. He worked as a lawyer in New York and became vice president of one of the largest insurance companies in Hartford, Connecticut. In addition to being a successful businessman, Stevens is considered one of the great poets of the twentieth century. His poetry collections include Harmonium (1923), The Man with the Blue Guitar and Other Poems (1937), A Primitive like an Orb (1948), and Transport to Summer (1947). Collected Poems (1954) brought Stevens both a Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Stevens’s work is often described as meditative and philosophical. He was a poet of ideas, with a strong belief in the poet as someone with heightened powers. Stevens favored precision of imagery and clear, sharp language, rejecting the sentiment favored by the Romantic and the Victorian poets.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

With its haiku-like austerity and abstract form, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” has been associated with the cubist painters, such as Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque, whose work depicted subjects from many viewpoints by breaking them up and reassembling them in an abstract form.

I

Among twenty snowy mountains

The only moving thing

Was the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds,

5

Like a tree

In which there are three blackbirds.

III

The blackbird whistled in the autumn winds.

It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a woman

10

Are one.

A man and a woman and a blackbird

Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,

The beauty of inflections

15

Or the beauty of innuendoes,

The blackbird whistling

Or just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long window

With barbaric glass.

20

The shadow of the blackbird

Crossed it, to and fro.

The mood

Traced in the shadow

An indecipherable cause.

VII

25

O thin men of Haddam,

Why do you imagine golden birds?

Do you not see how the blackbird

Walks around the feet

Of the women about you?

VIII

30

I know noble accents

And lucid, inescapable rhythms;

But I know, too,

That the blackbird is involved

In what I know.

IX

35

When the blackbird flew out of sight,

It marked the edge

Of one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirds

Flying in a green light,

40

Even the bawds of euphony

Would cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over Connecticut

In a glass coach.

Once, a fear pierced him,

45

In that he mistook

The shadow of his equipage

For blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving.

The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

50

It was evening all afternoon.

It was snowing

And it was going to snow.

The blackbird sat

In the cedar-limbs.

(1917)