I?<br />I walk alone;<br />The midnight street<br />Spins itself from under my feet;<br />My eyes shut<br />These dreaming houses all snuff out;<br />Through a whim of mine<br />Over gables the moon's celestial onion<br />Hangs high.<br /><br />I<br />Make houses shrink<br />And trees diminish<br />By going far; my look's leash<br />Dangles the puppet-people<br />Who, unaware how they dwindle,<br />Laugh, kiss, get drunk,<br />Nor guess that if I choose to blink<br />They die.<br /><br />I<br />When in good humour,<br />Give grass its green<br />Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun<br />With gold;<br />Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold<br />Absolute power<br />To boycott color and forbid any flower<br />To be.<br /><br />I<br />Know you appear<br />Vivid at my side,<br />Denying you sprang out of my head,<br />Claiming you feel<br />Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,<br />Though it's quite clear<br />All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,<br />From me.<br /><br />"Soliloquy of the Solipsist", 1956