One, among twenty snowy mountains the only moving thing was the eye of the blackbird.
Two, I was of three minds like a tree in which there are three blackbirds.
Three, the blackbird of world in the autumn winds it was a small part of the pantomime.
Four, a man and a woman are one, a man and a woman and a blackbird are one.
Five, I do not know which to prefer the beauty of inflections or the beauty of innuendos.
The blackbird whistling or just after?
Six, icicles filled the long window with barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird crossed it to and fro.
The mood traced in the shadow an indecipherable cause.
Seven, oh then men have had him why do you imagine golden birds and do you not see how the blackbird walks around the feet of the women about you?
Eight, I know noble accents and lucid inescapable rhythms but I know too that the blackbird is involved in what I know.
Nine, when the blackbird flew out of sight it marked the edge of one of many circles.
Ten, at the sight of blackbirds flying in a green light even the bords of euphony would cry out sharply.
Eleven, he rode over Connecticut and a glass coach once a fear pierced him in that he mistook the shadow of his equi-pitch for blackbirds.
Twelve, the river is moving, the blackbird must be flying.
Thirteen, it was evening all afternoon, it was snowing and it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat in the cedar limbs.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon, it was snowing and it was going to snow.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon, it was going to snow.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten.
It was evening all afternoon.
Ten.
It was evening all afternoon.
Ten, it was evening all afternoon.
Ten.
It was evening all afternoon.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
Ten.
