The poem of the mind in the act of finding
What will suffice. It has not always had
To find: the scene was set; it repeated
what
Was in the script.
Then the theatre was
changed
To something else. Its past was a souvenir.
It has to be living, to learn the speech of the
place.
It has to face the men of the time and to
meet
The women of the time. It has to think about
war
And it has to find what will suffice. It
has
To construct a new stage. It has to be on that
stage
And, like an insatiable actor, slowly and
With meditation, speak words that in the
ear,
In the delicatest ear of the mind, repeat,
Exactly, that which it wants to hear, at the
sound
Of which, an invisible audience listens,
Not to the play, but to itself, expressed
In an emotion as of two people, as of two
Emotions becoming one. The actor is
A metaphysician in the dark, twanging
An instrument, twanging a wiry string that gives
Sounds passing through sudden rightnesses,
wholly
Containing the mind, below which it cannot
descend,
Beyond which it has no will to rise.
It
must
Be the finding of a satisfaction, and may
Be of a man skating, a woman dancing, a
woman
Combing. The poem of the act of the mind.
Wallace Stevens
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