Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Goldfinch

(Inspired by Wallace Stevens's poem 'Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird', which is one of my favorites.)

Ⅰ

Among the deathly pale hills

suffocating in their blanket of snow,

the only thing moving was the wing of the goldfinch.

Ⅱ

My mind was always pulling,

tearing itself apart to ride down three different roads,

and on each path was a goldfinch.

Ⅲ

The goldfinch soared in the autumn sky,

the winds no match for its clever eye.

Ⅳ

Humankind and nature
are one.

Humankind and nature and the goldfinch
are one.

Ⅴ

The view from the top of the mountain

wowed me, and widened my eyes.

The goldfinch’s whistle

stole my breath away.

Ⅵ

The trees are naked now,

trying to hide their unfashionably empty branches,

gray against the blindingly white snow.

One has no need.

It is the tree where the goldfinch rests.

Ⅶ

Oh, great rabbis and scholars
of the villages and temples of old,

why do you speak of jeweled birds?

You have no need for ruby-adorned mechanical things,

for the goldfinch walks at your feet.

Ⅷ

I know of stories, of songs,

of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings.

Yet I know, too,

that the goldfinch is involved in what I know.

Ⅸ

When the goldfinch

Flies out of sight

I am compelled by a sudden urge

To follow its golden wings to the ends of the earth.

Ⅹ

When in sight

Of goldfinches flying in the evening light,

Even the heartless, the unfeeling

Would cry out in awe.

Ⅺ

He rode around Vermont

On a chestnut horse, with unsightly yellow reins.

Suddenly, a fear overtook him:

He mistook the limp little reins

For a goldfinch.

Ⅻ

The earth is turning,

and the river is moving.

The goldfinch will be flying.

ⅫⅠ

It was winter, again.

It had been snowing;

It was going to snow, again.

The goldfinch sat

In the cedar limbs.