You Are Tired (I Think) | A poem by e.e. cummings, 1894-1962

Edward Steichen, Cheruit Gown (Marion Morehouse, Mrs. e.e. cummings), 1927

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away…
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the things you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and–
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at at the hopeless gate of your heart–
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

e.e. cummings, You Are Tired (I Think)

Also:
This (let’s remember) day died again | A poem by e.e. cummings, 1950
I Carry Your Heart With me (I Carry it in My Heart) | A poem by e.e. cummings, 1952
Spring is like a perhaps hand | A poem by e.e. cummings, 1925
Somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond | A poem by e.e. cummings, 1931
Maggie and Milly and Molly and May | A poem by e. e. cummings, 1958