<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537396" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>January Morning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have discovered that most of <br>the beauties of travel are due to <br>the strange hours we keep to see them: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the domes of the Church of <br>the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken <br>against a smoky dawn -- the heart stirred -- <br>are beautiful as Saint Peters <br>approached after years of anticipation. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though the operation was postponed <br>I saw the tall probationers <br>in their tan uniforms <br>hurrying to breakfast! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and from basement entries <br>neatly coiffed, middle aged gentlemen <br>with orderly moustaches and <br>well-brushed coats </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and the sun, dipping into the avenues <br>streaking the tops of <br>the irregular red houselets, <br>and <br>the gay shadows drooping and drooping. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">V </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and a young horse with a green bed-quilt <br>on his withers shaking his head: <br>bared teeth and nozzle high in the air! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">--and a semicircle of dirt-colored men <br>about a fire bursting from an old <br>ash can, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and the worn, <br>blue car rails (like the sky!) <br>gleaming among the cobbles! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and the rickety ferry-boat &quot;Arden&quot;! <br>What an object to be called &quot;Arden&quot; <br>among the great piers, -- on the <br>ever new river! <br>&quot;Put me a Touchstone <br>at the wheel, white gulls, and we'll <br>follow the ghost of the Half Moon <br>to the North West Passage -- and through! <br>(at Albany!) for all that!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Exquisite brown waves -- long <br>circlets of silver moving over you! <br>enough with crumbling ice crusts among you! <br>The sky has come down to you, <br>lighter than tiny bubbles, face to <br>face with you! <br>His spirit is <br>a white gull with delicate pink feet <br>and a snowy breast for you to <br>hold to your lips delicately! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">X </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The young doctor is dancing with happiness <br>in the sparkling wind, alone <br>at the prow of the ferry! He notices <br>the curdy barnacles and broken ice crusts <br>left at the slip's base by the low tide <br>and thinks of summer and green <br>shell-crusted ledges among <br>the emerald eel-grass! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who knows the Palisades as I do <br>knows the river breaks east from them <br>above the city -- but they continue south <br>-- under the sky -- to bear a crest of <br>little peering houses that brighten <br>with dawn behind the moody <br>water-loving giants of Manhattan. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long yellow rushes bending <br>above the white snow patches; <br>purple and gold ribbon <br>of the distant wood: <br>what an angle <br>you make with each other as <br>you lie there in contemplation. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Work hard all your young days <br>and they'll find you too, some morning <br>staring up under <br>your chiffonier at its warped <br>bass-wood bottom and your soul -- <br>out! <br>-- among the little sparrows <br>behind the shutter. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- and the flapping flags are at <br>half-mast for the dead admiral. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All this -- <br>was for you, old woman. <br>I wanted to write a poem <br>that you would understand. <br>For what good is it to me <br>if you can't understand it? <br>But you got to try hard -- <br>But -- <br>Well, you know how <br>the young girls run giggling <br>on Park Avenue after dark <br>when they ought to be home in bed? <br>Well, <br>that's the way it is with me somehow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Carlos+Williams">William Carlos Williams</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537396" data-title="January Morning de William Carlos Williams" data-description="I I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them: the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken against a smoky dawn -- the heart stirred -- are beautiful as Saint Peter..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black