What Are Years Poem by Marianne Moore

What Are Years



What is our innocence,
what is our guilt? All are
naked, none is safe. And whence
is courage: the unanswered question,
the resolute doubt, —
dumbly calling, deafly listening—that
in misfortune, even death,
encourage others
and in its defeat, stirs
the soul to be strong? He
sees deep and is glad, who
accedes to mortality
and in his imprisonment rises
upon himself as
the sea in a chasm, struggling to be
free and unable to be,
in its surrendering
finds its continuing.
So he who strongly feels,
behaves. The very bird,
grown taller as he sings, steels
his form straight up. Though he is captive,
his mighty singing
says, satisfaction is a lowly
thing, how pure a thing is joy.
This is mortality,
this is eternity.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
B 04 March 2021

poem

2 0 Reply
Bjpafa Meragente 23 August 2017

Earned you a sculpture, or...the story only a few...

2 2 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Marianne Moore

Marianne Moore

Kirkwood, Missouri
Close
Error Success