1 I was the
shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff — and I
Lived on, flew
on, in the reflected sky.
And from the inside, too, I’d duplicate
Myself, my lamp, an apple on a plate:
Uncurtaining
the night, I’d let dark glass
Hang all the furniture above the grass,
And how delightful when a fall of snow
10 Covered my glimpse of lawn and
reached up so
As to make chair and bed exactly stand
Upon that snow, out in that crystal land!
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17 And then the gradual and dual
blue
As night unites the viewer and the view.
* I couldn't resist to add Kinbote's commentary to lines 131-132
...Today, when the "feigned remoteness" has indeed performed its dreadful duty, and the poem we have is the only "shadow" that remains, we cannot help reading into these lines something more than mirrorplay and mirage shimmer. We feel doom, in the image of Gradus, eating away the miles and miles of "feigned remoteness" between him and poor Shade. He, too, is to meet, in his urgent and blind flight, a reflection that will shatter him.
In Kinbote's eyes the poem is the "I" ("shadow"), Shade and Gradus "the ashen fluff" and Kinbote "lives on" until he meets another reflection that shall shatter him?
Really, why did Shade write " I was.. I was.. I lived on...I'd let"- using the past tense? Who is the doomed but still living poet?
And...does this confirm M.R and C.Kunin's idea?
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