October 17th, 2005
The Fly
Little Fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
-Wlliam Blake
Tags: poetry, william blake, death
Z says:
Very nice. What does he mean by “And the want of thought is death”
October 17th, 2005 at 04:36 pm
Kunal Goel says:
“Want of thought” means absesnce of thought. He means to say “life is thought”. Maybe he’s referring to descartes who said “I think therefore I am” (cogito ergo sum)
October 17th, 2005 at 05:28 pm
Z says:
So he is saying it is important to think for yourself, have your own opinion
October 17th, 2005 at 05:55 pm
Kunal Goel says:
A poem has different meanings for different people. So what you think is right
October 17th, 2005 at 06:06 pm
Neha says:
It s a very nice poem Kunal. You have a good eye for those.
March 18th, 2006 at 02:44 pm