ltdcassít exittof lattero insulhout only to
efiect apeoarcs truthtUy
Mirror bySylvia Plath (1961)
2eflecHCns thatare influerrec yfeeeling.
lam silver and exact, Ihave no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
lam not cruel, ontlytruthful,
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the timeImeditate on the opposite wall.
It ispink, with speckles. Ihave looked at it so long
Ithinkit is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now Iam alakeA woman,bends over me,
Searching my reachesf6r WhatBhe Peaiy
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
Isee her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
lam 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.| on tnc
insidc,the ronan isthe jiingonfror
8amc pereOnShes
Themes: Time,Aging alnayE ben, yetaS
and monality sht eares ntoncr
refkhon cach moming
Shc soes an od
she loos to
canies and Homan.
moonlignt irsecd
of thc miror. gextemal
thenomans refecHenconAict
Theme thedisconret the aging process
beren nor shc
insice and the asnels
bas mçce her
(eality of Themiror hpnign ts her changin UnrcArade
fe
12 hoor anal di fficui of feels nocin r t
nodgingand becaUse unreal.
gng erabIedde o deatn ~thei c aof noraiit
efiect apeoarcs truthtUy
Mirror bySylvia Plath (1961)
2eflecHCns thatare influerrec yfeeeling.
lam silver and exact, Ihave no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
lam not cruel, ontlytruthful,
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the timeImeditate on the opposite wall.
It ispink, with speckles. Ihave looked at it so long
Ithinkit is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now Iam alakeA woman,bends over me,
Searching my reachesf6r WhatBhe Peaiy
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
Isee her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
lam 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.| on tnc
insidc,the ronan isthe jiingonfror
8amc pereOnShes
Themes: Time,Aging alnayE ben, yetaS
and monality sht eares ntoncr
refkhon cach moming
Shc soes an od
she loos to
canies and Homan.
moonlignt irsecd
of thc miror. gextemal
thenomans refecHenconAict
Theme thedisconret the aging process
beren nor shc
insice and the asnels
bas mçce her
(eality of Themiror hpnign ts her changin UnrcArade
fe
12 hoor anal di fficui of feels nocin r t
nodgingand becaUse unreal.
gng erabIedde o deatn ~thei c aof noraiit
