Hist Whist Read online

  E. E. Cummings

  Hist Whist

  and other poems

  for children

  Illustrated by

  David Calsada

  Edited by

  George J. Firmage

  Liveright New York London

  Adjusting type size may change line breaks. Landscape mode may help to preserve line breaks.

  Hist Whist and Other Poems for Children

  E. E. Cummings

  Edited by George James Firmage

  Illustrated with line drawings by

  David Calsada

  Now children can claim for their very own the puddle-wonderful (mudluscious) world where buds know better than books don’t grow, where little itchy mousies with scuttling eyes rustle and run and hidehidehide, and the ree ray rye roh rowster shouts rawrOO.

  Cummings’s poetry more than that of any other major American poet keeps faith with childhood. These twenty poems were selected by him and published privately in 1962. The book, which for copyright purposes had to appear in a somewhat abbreviated form, was issued as 16 Poèmes Enfantins in an edition limited to 500 copies.

  Hist Whist combines the original twenty poèmes enfantins with the first appearance of the beautiful and evocative line drawings of the young California artist David Calsada. His sensitive pen has captured the spirit of Cummings’s poems in its detailed rendering of a world that only poets and children can see.

  George James Firmage, the publisher of 16 Poèmes Enfantins and editor of the new Liveright series of Cummings’s works, has prepared the text and contributed a brief historical note.

  Contents

  1. O the sun comes up-up-up in the opening

  2. in Just-

  3. sentinel robins two

  4. maggie and milly and molly and may

  5. if everything happens that can’t be done

  6. the little horse is newlY

  7. for any ruffian of the sky

  8. & sun &

  9. now(more near ourselves than we)

  10. o by the by

  11. hist whist

  12. why did you go

  13. mouse) Won

  14. !

  15. porky & porkie

  16. if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild should sit

  17. who are you,little i

  18. blossoming are people

  19. who(is?are)who

  20. little tree

  Editor’s Note

  Sixteen of the twenty poems chosen for this collection by the poet appeared in a privately printed edition of 500 copies entitled 16 Poèmes Enfantins in January 1962. The complete selection and the illustrations especially prepared for this new edition are published here for the first time.

  G.J.F.

  Hist Whist

  and other poems

  for children

  1

  O the sun comes up-up-up in the opening

  sky(the all the

  any merry every pretty each

  bird sings birds sing

  gay-be-gay because today’s today)the

  romp cries i and the me purrs

  you and the gentle

  who-horns says-does moo-woo

  (the prance with the

  three white its stimpstamps)

  the grintgrunt wugglewiggle

  champychumpchomps yes

  the speckled strut begins to scretch and

  scratch-scrutch

  and scritch(while

  the no-she-yes-he fluffies tittle

  tattle did-he-does-she)& the

  ree ray rye roh

  rowster shouts

  rawrOO

  2

  in Just-

  spring when the world is mud-

  luscious the little

  lame balloonman

  whistles far and wee

  and eddieandbill come

  running from marbles and

  piracies and it’s

  spring

  when the world is puddle-wonderful

  the queer

  old balloonman whistles

  far and wee

  and bettyandisbel come dancing

  from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

  it’s

  spring

  and

  the

  goat-footed

  balloonMan whistles

  far

  and

  wee

  3

  sentinel robins two

  guard me and you

  and little house this our

  from hate from fear

  a which of slim of blue

  of here will who

  straight up into the where

  so safe we are

  4

  maggie and milly and molly and may

  went down to the beach(to play one day)

  and maggie discovered a shell that sang

  so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

  milly befriended a stranded star

  whose rays five languid fingers were;

  and molly was chased by a horrible thing

  which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

  may came home with a smooth round stone

  as small as a world and as large as alone.

  For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)

  it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

  5

  if everything happens that can’t be done

  (and anything’s righter

  than books

  could plan)

  the stupidest teacher will almost guess

  (with a run

  skip

  around we go yes)

  there’s nothing as something as one

  one hasn’t a why or because or although

  (and buds know better

  than books

  don’t grow)

  one’s anything old being everything new

  (with a what

  which

  around we come who)

  one’s everyanything so

  so world is a leaf so tree is a bough

  (and birds sing sweeter

  than books

  tell how)

  so here is away and so your is a my

  (with a down

  up

  around again fly)

  forever was never till now

  now i love you and you love me

  (and books are shuter

  than books

  can be)

  and deep in the high that does nothing but fall

  (with a shout

  each

  around we go all)

  there’s somebody calling who’s we

  we’re anything brighter than even the sun

  (we’re everything greater

  than books

  might mean)

  we’re everyanything more than believe

  (with a spin

  leap

  alive we’re alive)

  we’re wonderful one times one

  6

  the little horse is newlY

  Born)he knows nothing,and feels

  everything;all around whom is

  perfectly a strange

  ness(Of sun

  light and of fragrance and of

  Singing)is ev

  erywhere(a welcom

  ing dream:is amazing)

  a worlD.and in

  this world lies:smoothbeautifuL

  ly folded;a(brea

  thing and a gro

  Wing)silence,who;

  is:somE

  oNe.

  7

  for any ruffian of the sky

  your kingbird doesn’t give a damn—

  his royal warcry is I AM

  and he’s the soul of chivalry

 
in terror of whose furious beak

  (as sweetly singing creatures know)

  cringes the hugest heartless hawk

  and veers the vast most crafty crow

  your kingbird doesn’t give a damn

  for murderers of high estate

  whose mongrel creed is Might Makes Right

  —his royal warcry is I AM

  true to his mate his chicks his friends

  he loves because he cannot fear

  (you see it in the way he stands

  and looks and leaps upon the air)

  8

  & sun &

  sil

  e

  nce

  e

  very

  w

  here

  noon

  e

  is exc

  ep

  t

  on

  t

  his

  b

  oul

  der

  a

  drea(chipmunk)ming

  9

  now(more near ourselves than we)

  is a bird singing in a tree,

  who never sings the same thing twice

  and still that singing’s always his

  eyes can feel but ears may see

  there never lived a gayer he;

  if earth and sky should break in two

  he’d make them one(his song’s so true)

  who sings for us for you for me

  for each leaf newer than can be:

  and for his own(his love)his dear

  he sings till everywhere is here

  10

  o by the by

  has anybody seen

  little you-i

  who stood on a green

  hill and threw

  his wish at blue

  with a swoop and a dart

  out flew his wish

  (it dived like a fish

  but it climbed like a dream)

  throbbing like a heart

  singing like a flame

  blue took it my

  far beyond far

  and high beyond high

  bluer took it your

  but bluest took it our

  away beyond where

  what a wonderful thing

  is the end of a string

  (murmurs little you-i

  as the hill becomes nil)

  and will somebody tell

  me why people let go

  11

  hist whist

  little ghostthings

  tip-toe

  twinkle-toe

  little twitchy

  witches and tingling

  goblins

  hob-a-nob hob-a-nob

  little hoppy happy

  toad in tweeds

  tweeds

  little itchy mousies

  with scuttling

  eyes rustle and run and

  hidehidehide

  whisk

  whisk look out for the old woman

  with the wart on her nose

  what she’ll do to yer

  nobody knows

  for she knows the devil ooch

  the devil ouch

  the devil

  ach the great

  green

  dancing

  devil

  devil

  devil

  devil

  wheeEEE

  12

  why did you go

  little fourpaws?

  you forgot to shut

  your big eyes.

  where did you go?

  like little kittens

  are all the leaves

  which open in the rain.

  little kittens who

  are called spring,

  is what we stroke

  maybe asleep?

  do you know?or maybe did

  something go away

  ever so quietly

  when we weren’t looking.

  13

  mouse)Won

  derfully is

  anyone else entirely who doesn’t

  move(Moved more suddenly than)whose

  tiniest smile?may Be

  bigger than the fear of all

  hearts never which have

  (Per

  haps)loved(or than

  everyone that will Ever love)we

  ’ve

  hidden him in A leaf

  and,

  Opening

  beautiful earth

  put(only)a Leaf among dark

  ness.sunlight’s

  thenlike?now

  Disappears

  some

  thing(silent:

  madeofimagination

  ;the incredible soft)ness

  (his ears(eyes

  14

  !

  o(rounD)moon,how

  do

  you(rouNd

  er

  than roUnd)float;

  who

  lly &(rOunder than)

  go

  :ldenly(Round

  est)

  ?

  15

  porky & porkie

  sit into a moon)

  blacker than dreams

  are round like a spoon are

  both making silence

  two-made-of-one

  & nothing tells anywhere

  “snow will come soon” &

  pretending they’re birds sit

  creatures of quills

  (asleep who must go

  things-without-wings

  16

  if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild should sit

  (holding a red candle over his head

  by a finger of trunk,and singing out of a red

  book)on a proud round cloud in a white high night

  where his heartlike ears have flown adorable him

  self tail and all(and his tail’s red christmas bow)

  —and if,when we meet again,little he(having flown

  even higher)is sunning his penguinsoul in the glow

  of a joy which wasn’t and isn’t and won’t be words

  while possibly not(at a guess)quite half way down

  to the earth are leapandswooping tinily birds

  whose magical gaiety makes your beautiful name—

  i feel that(false and true are merely to know)

  Love only has ever been,is,and will ever be,So

  17

  who are you,little i

  (five or six years old)

  peering from some high

  window;at the gold

  of november sunset

  (and feeling:that if day

  has to become night

  this is a beautiful way)

  18

  blossoming are people

  nimbler than Really

  go whirling into gaily

  white thousands return

  by millions and dreaming

  drift hundreds come swimming

  (Each a keener secret

  than silence even tells)

  all the earth has turned to sky

  are flowers neither why nor how

  when is now and which is Who

  and i am you are i am we

  (pretty twinkle merry bells)

  Someone has been born

  everyone is noone

  dance around the snowman

  19

  who(is?are)who

  (two faces at a dark

  window)this father and his

  child are watching snowflakes

  (falling & falling & falling)

  eyes eyes

  looking(alw

  ays)while

  earth and sky grow

  one with won

  der until(see

  the)with the

  bigger much than biggest

  (little is)now(dancing yes for)white

  ly(joy!joy!joy)and whiteliest all

  wonderings are silence is becom

  ing each

  truebeautifully

  more-t
han-thing

  (& falling &)

  EverychildfatheringOne

  20

  little tree

  little silent Christmas tree

  you are so little

  you are more like a flower

  who found you in the green forest

  and were you very sorry to come away?

  see i will comfort you

  because you smell so sweetly

  i will kiss your cool bark

  and hug you safe and tight

  just as your mother would,

  only don’t be afraid

  look the spangles

  that sleep all the year in a dark box

  dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

  the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

  put up your little arms

  and i’ll give them all to you to hold

  every finger shall have its ring

  and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy

  then when you’re quite dressed

  you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see

  and how they’ll stare!

  oh but you’ll be very proud

  and my little sister and i will take hands

  and looking up at our beautiful tree

  we’ll dance and sing

  “Noel Noel”

  Etcetera

  THE UNPUBLISHED POEMS OF

  E.E. Cummings

  Edited by George J. Firmage and Richard S. Kennedy

  Etcetera is the first new collection of poems by E.E. Cummings to be issued in twenty years. Selected from a larger body of completed but as yet unpublished and uncollected poems, Etcetera contains previously unsavored but vintage Cummings, plus a gathering of earlier poems that trace his growth as a “draughtsman of words.”

  In all, the editors have chosen 143 poems for the main section of the book and arranged them under the following headings:

  Poems from the Harvard Years,

  1911–16

  Experiments with Typography, Spacing,

  and Sound, 1916–17

  Reflections of the War, Par is, Imprisonment,