my father moved through dooms of love

　　by E. E. Cummings

　　 my father moved through dooms of love

　　 through sames of am through haves of give，

　　 singing each morning out of each night

　　 my father moved through depths of height

　　 this motionless forgetful where

　　 turned at his glance to shining here；

　　 that if（so timid air is firm）

　　 under his eyes would stir and squirm

　　 newly as from unburied which

　　 floats the first who，his april touch

　　 drove sleeping selves to swarm their fates

　　 woke dreamers to their ghostly roots

　　 and should some why completely weep

　　 my father's fingers brought her sleep：

　　 vainly no smallest voice might cry

　　 for he could feel the mountains grow.

　　 Lifting the valleys of the sea

　　 my father moved through griefs of joy；

　　 praising a forehead called the moon

　　 singing desire into begin

　　 joy was his song and joy so pure

　　 a heart of star by him could steer

　　 and pure so now and now so yes

　　 the wrists of twilight would rejoice

　　 keen as midsummer's keen beyond

　　 conceiving mind of sun will stand，

　　 so strictly（over utmost him

　　 so hugely） stood my father's dream

　　 his flesh was flesh his blood was blood：

　　 no hungry man but wished him food；

　　 no cripple wouldn't creep one mile

　　 uphill to only see him smile.

　　 Scorning the Pomp of must and shall

　　 my father moved through dooms of feel；

　　 his anger was as right as rain

　　 his pity was as green as grain

　　 septembering arms of year extend

　　 yes humbly wealth to foe and friend

　　 than he to foolish and to wise

　　 offered immeasurable is

　　 proudly and（by octobering flame

　　 beckoned）as earth will downward climb，

　　 so naked for immortal work

　　 his shoulders marched against the dark

　　 his sorrow was as true as bread：

　　 no liar looked him in the head；

　　 if every friend became his foe

　　 he'd laugh and build a world with snow.

　　 My father moved through theys of we，

　　 singing each new leaf out of each tree

　　 （and every child was sure that spring

　　 danced when she heard my father sing）

　　 then let men kill which cannot share，

　　 let blood and flesh be mud and mire，

　　 scheming imagine，passion willed，

　　 freedom a drug that's bought and sold

　　 giving to steal and cruel kind，

　　 a heart to fear，to doubt a mind，

　　 to differ a disease of same，

　　 conform the pinnacle of am

　　 though dull were all we taste as bright，

　　 bitter all utterly things sweet，

　　 maggoty minus and dumb death

　　 all we inherit，all bequeath

　　 and nothing quite so least as truth

　　 i say though hate were why men breathe

　　 because my Father lived his soul

　　 love is the whole and more than all