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Comment 6 of 96, added on April 16th, 2006 at 1:59 AM.
It's not necessarily an attack on religious beliefs. i think he's just
saying that you need to be spontaneous and carefree and be willing to "sin"
every once in a while to get the most out of life.
i think he's saying that it's better to be naive--like birds--than to have
worldly knowledge, because people who have knowledge are bitter and
pessimistic and are never spontaneous because they're too afraid of the
consequences. naive people fall in love, and they make fools of themselves
doing it...but at least they're in love.
Jill from United States
Comment 5 of 96, added on April 11th, 2006 at 5:46 PM.
A beautiful poem. His ability to twist words as though they were
However, I don't believe that it's an attack on Christianity or religious
leaders, by any means.
Laulena from New Zealand
Comment 4 of 96, added on February 19th, 2006 at 10:17 PM.
So I'm on 3mg's of DOC and I search for basically whatever comes into my
mind on google, and first thing pops up this poem, and of course its
Comment 3 of 96, added on November 1st, 2005 at 8:41 PM.
"... and even if it's sunday may i be wrong" is such a gentle, subtle and
irresistable attack on our religious leaders who believe they have a
monopoly on the way, the truth and the light, especially when they preach
on any Sunday morning. Or am I wrong? Reminds me of Breugel's painting "The
Blind Leading the Blind" when his Germany was ravaged by conflict between
the Catholics and the Protestants.
Tampa Bay John from United States
Comment 2 of 96, added on June 28th, 2005 at 9:58 PM.
Cummings is beyond a doubt my favorite poet, and this poem in particular
has always sent chills up my spine -- it's beauty is that powerful!
Barbara from United States
Comment 1 of 96, added on October 20th, 2004 at 4:03 AM.
sheer beauty needs no comment. is that the reason nobody comments this
poem? I wonder. However, I would like to enter a translation into German,
because all translations I have read so far seemed to be wrong.
Möge mein Herz stets offen sein den kleinen
Vögeln die das Geheimnis zu Leben sind
wasimmer sie singen ist besser als das Wissen
und sollten Männer sie nicht hören sind Männer alt
möge mein Denken umherstreunen hungrig
und furchtlos und durstig und schmiegsam
und sei es auch Sonntag möge ich mich irren
denn wannimmer Männer recht haben sind sie nicht jung
und möge ich selber Nichtstun das nützt
und dich selbst je mehr als wahrhaft lieben
nie gab´s einen solchen Narr dem es misslang
allen Himmel über sich zu ziehen mit einem Lächeln
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