Still there are words that never will be said! Some sudden inhibition dams them up Behind a wall of silence, where they beat In vain against the barrier, then break And shatter into fragments noiselessly. And there are slender nuances of sound That might be caught and welded into speech, If one could extricate them from the depths Of trees in summer, or of quiet rain. Who shall interpret whispering of leaves, Or murmuring of grasses; who translate The hoarse, cacophonous muttering of the wind! Sometimes, upon a clear blue autumn day, When clouds were driven hard in furious haste, When the air was cut by a million scintillant blades, -- Standing alone on a high imperious hill, I have almost caught the inarticulate words -- Have almost captured them and made them mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY DEATH AS A GIRL I KNEW by JAMES GALVIN STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR UNWANTED MEMORY by CLARENCE MAJOR A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE THE WIZARD IN WORDS by MARIANNE MOORE |