126 lines
3.5 KiB
HTML
126 lines
3.5 KiB
HTML
<!doctype html>
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<html>
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<head>
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<title>Zk | text</title>
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<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="/style.css" />
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" />
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<meta charset="utf-8" />
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</head>
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<body>
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<main>
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<header>
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<h1>Zk | text</h1>
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</header>
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<article class="content">
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<hr />
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<h2 id="type-single">type: single</h2>
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<div class="verse"><strong>I</strong>
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Among twenty snowy mountains,
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The only moving thing
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Was the eye of the blackbird.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>II</strong>
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I was of three minds,
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Like a tree
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In which there are three blackbirds.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>III</strong>
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The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
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It was a small part of the pantomime.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>IV</strong>
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A man and a woman
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Are one.
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A man and a woman and a blackbird
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Are one.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>V</strong>
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I do not know which to prefer,
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The beauty of inflections
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Or the beauty of innuendoes,
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The blackbird whistling
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Or just after.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>VI</strong>
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Icicles filled the long window
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With barbaric glass.
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The shadow of the blackbird
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Crossed it, to and fro.
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The mood
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Traced in the shadow
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An indecipherable cause.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>VII</strong>
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O thin men of Haddam,
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Why do you imagine golden birds?
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Do you not see how the blackbird
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Walks around the feet
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Of the women about you?</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>VIII</strong>
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I know noble accents
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And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
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But I know, too,
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That the blackbird is involved
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In what I know.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>IX</strong>
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When the blackbird flew out of sight,
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It marked the edge
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Of one of many circles.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>X</strong>
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At the sight of blackbirds
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Flying in a green light,
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Even the bawds of euphony
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Would cry out sharply.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>XI</strong>
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He rode over Connecticut
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In a glass coach.
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Once, a fear pierced him,
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In that he mistook
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The shadow of his equipage
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For blackbirds.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>XII</strong>
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The river is moving.
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The blackbird must be flying.</div>
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<div class="verse"><strong>XIII</strong>
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It was evening all afternoon.
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It was snowing
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And it was going to snow.
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The blackbird sat
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In the cedar-limbs.</div>
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<p><em>— Wallace Stevens</em></p>
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<h3 id="see-also">See also</h3>
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<ul>
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<li><a href="https://ericwhitacre.com/music-catalog/winter">Winter</a> by Edward Esch</li>
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<li><em>House of Leaves</em> by Mark Z Danielewski (of course)</li>
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<li><em>S</em> by J J Abrams and Doug Dorst</li>
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<li><a href="http://www.bisthebox.com/comics/post-op-androgyne/"><em>Post-op Androgyne</em></a> by Bis Thornton</li>
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<li><em>Love, Dishonor, Marry, Die, Cherish, Perish: a Novel</em> by David Rakoff</li>
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<li><em>Pattern Recognition</em> by William Gibson</li>
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<li><em>The Pharmako/ Trilogy</em> by Dale Pendell</li>
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<li><em>The Ocean at the End of the Lane</em> by Neil Gaiman</li>
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<li><em>The Tao Te Ching</em> by Lao Tzu, translated by Stephen Mitchell</li>
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<li><em>The Bucketrider</em> by Franz Kafka</li>
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<li><em>Ecclesiastes</em></li>
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</ul>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2020-06-24</p>
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