Mirror - Sylvia Plath, 1961

Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful -
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an
          old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

The Toilet of Venus, Diego Velázquez 1647-1651, The National Gallery UK

Comments

[enite]

wow. I dig poetry. I am not a big fan of Sylvia Plath but I have never read this. That last line surprised me.

[susie_bubble]

I've just recently started reading your blog....I'm finding it hugely inspiring!