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"body": "<div style=\"text-align:center;\">NOTES TOWARD A SUPREME FICTION</div><div style=\"text-align:center;\">IV</div><div style=\"text-align:left;\">Two things of opposite natures seem to depend <br />On one another, as a man depends <br />On a woman, day on night, the imagined <br /><br />On the real. This is the origin of change. <br />Winter and spring, cold copulars, embrace <br />And forth the particulars of rapture come. <br /><br />Music falls on the science like a sense, <br />A passion that we feel, not understand. <br />Morning and afternoon are clasped together <br /><br />And North and South are an intrinsic couple <br />And sun and rain a plural, like two lovers <br />That walk away as one in the greenest body. <br /><br />In solitude the trumpets of solitude <br />Are not of another solitude resounding; <br />A little string speaks for a crowd of voices. <br /><br />The partaker partakes of that which changes him. <br />The child that touches takes character from the thing, <br />The body, it touches. The captain and his men <br /><br />Are one and the sailor and the sea are one. <br />Follow after, O my companion, my fellow, my self, <br />Sister and solace, brother and delight. </div>",
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Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction
Haggadah Section: Commentary / Readings
NOTES TOWARD A SUPREME FICTION
IV
Two things of opposite natures seem to depend
On one another, as a man depends
On a woman, day on night, the imagined
On the real. This is the origin of change.
Winter and spring, cold copulars, embrace
And forth the particulars of rapture come.
Music falls on the science like a sense,
A passion that we feel, not understand.
Morning and afternoon are clasped together
And North and South are an intrinsic couple
And sun and rain a plural, like two lovers
That walk away as one in the greenest body.
In solitude the trumpets of solitude
Are not of another solitude resounding;
A little string speaks for a crowd of voices.
The partaker partakes of that which changes him.
The child that touches takes character from the thing,
The body, it touches. The captain and his men
Are one and the sailor and the sea are one.
Follow after, O my companion, my fellow, my self,
Sister and solace, brother and delight.
On one another, as a man depends
On a woman, day on night, the imagined
On the real. This is the origin of change.
Winter and spring, cold copulars, embrace
And forth the particulars of rapture come.
Music falls on the science like a sense,
A passion that we feel, not understand.
Morning and afternoon are clasped together
And North and South are an intrinsic couple
And sun and rain a plural, like two lovers
That walk away as one in the greenest body.
In solitude the trumpets of solitude
Are not of another solitude resounding;
A little string speaks for a crowd of voices.
The partaker partakes of that which changes him.
The child that touches takes character from the thing,
The body, it touches. The captain and his men
Are one and the sailor and the sea are one.
Follow after, O my companion, my fellow, my self,
Sister and solace, brother and delight.
Source:
Wallace Stevens, "Collected Poems"
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