Somewhere i have never travelled gladly
E.E. Cummings, American,1894-1962, from Complete Poems, published in several editions
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
Untitled, pastel on chipboard, iron frame.
In memoriam Marisa Merz, Italian, 1926-2019. Loaned by Glenstone Museum, Maryland to the Philadelphia Art Museum
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
Untitled, 1983, bronze.
In memoriam Marisa Merz, Italian, 1926-2019. Loaned to the Philadelphia Art Museum by a private collection
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
Untitled, copper, wire, nails, no date.
In memoriam Marisa Merz, Italian, 1926-2019. Courtesy of the Fondazione Merz on loan to the Philadelphia Art Museum
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
Untitled, copper, wire, nails, no date.
In memoriam Marisa Merz, Italian, 1926-2019. Courtesy of the Fondazione Merz on loan to the Philadelphia Art Museum
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
Untitled, 1983, bronze.
In memoriam Marisa Merz, Italian, 1926-2019. Loaned to the Philadelphia Art Museum by a private collection
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