A few things for themselves,
Convolvulus and coral,
Buzzards and live-moss,
Tiestas from the keys,
A few things for themselves,
Florida, venereal soil,
Disclose to the lover.
The dreadful sundry of this world,
The Cuban, Polodowsky,
The Mexican women,
The Negro undertaker
Killing time between corpses
Fishing for crayfish…
Virgin of boorish births,
Swiftly in the nights,
In the porches of Key West,
Behind the bougainvilleas,
After the guitar is asleep,
Lasciviously as the wind,
You come tormenting,
Insatiable,
When you might sit,
A scholar of darkness,
Sequestered over the sea,
Wearing a clear tiara
Of red and blue and red,
Sparkling, solitary, still,
In the high sea-shadow.
Donna, donna, dark,
Stooping in indigo gown
And cloudy constellations,
Conceal yourself or disclose
Fewest things to the lover -
A hand that bears a thick-leaved fruit,
A pungent bloom against your shade.
(from Stevens, Collected Poetry & Prose, p.19)
* * * * *
I find this a very interesting poem, as are most of Stevens’ ‘Venus’ poems to me. Venus represents pleasure and sexual love, for Stevens that would mean, women. He writes, ‘a few things for themselves,/ convolvulus and coral.’ Convolvulus is a very twining vine and blossom, and ‘sounds like’ the word ‘vulva,’ suggesting Venus. Coral, associated with Mars in Indian lore, is of a deep pink color, and in the West, this kind of sexual blush-pink is associated with Aphrodite/Venus, the goddess of love. ‘Florida, venereal soil,’ moves our minds both towards Venus, and towards her ‘lower manifestation,’ the ‘venereal’ as in venereal disease, or simply, as ‘common, venal.’
This last connotation is carried on in the next verse: ‘The dreadful sundry of this world, / The Cuban, Polodowsky, /The Mexican women’: are these Stevens' observations of the poorer residents of Florida, refugees, or those who spend their life seeking pleasure, only to face abandonment and poverty when beauty if gone? ‘The Negro undertaker /Killing time between corpses /Fishing for crayfish’ ; nota: crayfish are bottom-feeders. ‘Virgin of boorish births.’
In esoteric lore, Venus is the noble teacher of demons, the icon of beauty and ordered harmony, but on the opposite side of the coin, represents the underside of the world: the colony of bordellos, the beach-shacks of the unemployed.
In the last three verses, it seems as if he is talking about himself. The feeling, after-hours, of the lure of Venus in her more venal form, or perhaps, less compromisingly, simply in her earthly form, as ‘Florida’, compared to Venus as Queen of Poetry, of all art and structure that is of a beautiful and ordered harmony. This is her highest gift in the lore of India’s Jyotish, for example. If he could relate to her in that highest form, he ‘might sit, / A scholar of darkness, / Sequestered over the sea, ‘….sparkling, solitary, still, / Iin the high sea-shadow.’
In the final verse, Stevens becomes the conjurer of word-magic, creating an incantator or spell, as per Anca Rosu’s brilliant insights into Stevens’ poetry. He speaks to Venus, in her Florida incarnation:
“Donna, donna, dark,
Stooping in indigo gown
And cloudy constellations,
Conceal yourself or disclose
Fewest things to the lover -
A hand that bears a thick-leaved fruit,
A pungent bloom against your shade.”
I wonder why Stevens refers to women as ‘shade?’ In India , shade is considered to be something cooling and sacred, because it protects one from the all too violent sun. But in the west, ‘shade’ refers to something negative, a ghost, or to ‘the shadows,’ something sinister, something to be concealed.
Another possible rendering might be that the fourth verse refers to his urge, which I presume he had, to ‘take off’ into pure abstract flight, unrelated to the earthy world at all. Instead, this place, this dark woman Florida, seduces him to write about her. But I don’t lean toward this interpretation, because Stevens seemed very clear about the significance of place in his work. I prefer to see the poem as expressing his dilemma between the two Venuses.
I couldn't find a meaning for the word 'tiestas.' As a young person growing up on the east coast, I knew other young people who moved to Florida, rather than to California, because they craved a sort of mindless enjoyment of the material world: of sun, sand and warm water, an easy-going life-style. Some people thought that was to be found in California, but those who had made both trips preferred Florida.