“Anyone lived in a pretty how town” is a poem by E. E. Cummings
I’ve read it several times over several weeks before I started this recension.
It’s about anyone growing up and feeling lonely and finding love and finally dieing. It’s about seasons changing and people ever being there and never really being close to anyone, because he’s just anyone. Only that he is special to the girl. It’s about things changing and yet staying the same, about how a single person makes a difference only to few other persons but being just a “someone/anyone” to most people . It’s about what the whole town feels about this anyone and how little he means to them as a whole.
I think, overall it’s about what makes each of us special and that is when we love someone and when our feelings mean something to someone else.
The weird thing about this poem is that it never clearly states anything about being special. It’s a poem about an ordinary guy living in an ordinary town and living an ordinary life that inevitably ends like seasons change.
I don’t know if I’ve guessed the meaning right but it made me feel that way.
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Here’s the full version. (copy/paste from http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15403)
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
20/10/2010 um 14:35 |
Interesting interpretation – and quite different from my own!
20/10/2010 um 18:33 |
Which goes as follows…?
I’d be interested.
This poem moved me, though I’m still not sure what it is about. And I don’t want to ruin this feeling by looking up an “official” explaination.
20/10/2010 um 20:14 |
My version is more about the beauty you can find in ordinariness. That something doesn’t have to be special to be good. If you know what I mean.
And it moved me, too.
20/10/2010 um 18:37 |
Ahja: Ilias bis Ende Oktober… ^^
Deine Monatstexte von Juni/Juli bzw August/September fehlen auch noch. … du könntest meiner Neugierde auf “lolves- the series” ein wenig Linderung verschaffen. *hint-hint* (Weiß aber nicht, ob die Co-Autorinnen da nicht ärgerlich sind.)
Oder die schwangere Detektivin weiterermitteln lassen. : )
20/10/2010 um 20:13 |
Die Ilias werd ich bis Ende Oktober, befürchte ich, nicht schaffen. Aber ich werd mir Mühe geben.
Mit den Monatstexten… ich weiß. Ich weiß nur nicht, wann ich die wirklich schreiben soll.
21/10/2010 um 12:49
Schlaf wird durch Musenkuss ersetzt.
Nein, im Ernst: Ich werde zwar eventuell die Ilias pünktlich schaffen. Aber mein Monatstext (er spielt diesmal im Familienministerium) wird eher nicht fertig.
… das wichtige ist, dass wir unsere Freude daran behalten, und insgesamt nicht aufhören mit diesem (nun doch schon langjährigen) Projekt. Und nicht dass wir uns preußisch an deadlines halten. : )
21/10/2010 um 14:06
Hear, hear!
Irgendwann hab ich vielleicht tatsächlich einmal Zeit für diese Dinge. Evtl.