I



Among twenty snowy mountains,



The only moving thing



Was the eye of the blackbird.







II



I was of three minds,



Like a tree



In which there are three blackbirds.







III



The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.



It was a small part of the pantomime.







IV



A man and a woman



Are one.



A man and a woman and a blackbird



Are one.







V



I do not know which to prefer,



The beauty of inflections



Or the beauty of innuendoes,



The blackbird whistling



Or just after.







VI



Icicles filled the long window



With barbaric glass.



The shadow of the blackbird



Crossed it, to and fro.



The mood



Traced in the shadow



An indecipherable cause.







VII



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



I know noble accents



And lucid, inescapable rhythms;



But I know, too,



That the blackbird is involved



In what I know.







IX



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,



Even the bawds of euphony



Would cry out sharply.







XI



He rode over Connecticut



In a glass coach.



Once, a fear pierced him,



In that he mistook



The shadow of his equipage



For blackbirds.







XII



The river is moving.



The blackbird must be flying.







XIII



It was evening all afternoon.



It was snowing



And it was going to snow.



The blackbird sat



In the cedar-limbs.





