“Why do I love” You, Sir? – The Poem

“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

by Emily Dickinson

 

The Valentine Date Story

Emma and Scott were on a date at a fancy restaurant on the eve of Valentine. Suddenly, in the middle of nowhere, he popped that horrifying question.

Scott: You are just perfect, and I have all the reasons to love you. But I have always been wondering, why do you love me?

She was clueless for a second, as to what she should reply. Then she said.

Emma: Because you are the most intelligent and smart person that I have ever met.

Scott: What? Does that mean that if I lose my sanity, one day, you would stop loving me?

Emma: No, I don’t mean that. You look good too. You are a complete package, ‘beauty with brains’.

Then she giggled.

Scott: And does that if I become fat or bald someday, you would stop loving me?

Emma: You are a kind person at heart. The man with a golden heart.

Scott: So if I become a true corporate honcho, you won’t love me anymore?

Emma had already started losing it.

Emma: You care for me so much, no one else does so much for me.

Scott: So if I get so busy someday to give you enough time, you will stop loving me?

Emma put her palm on her face. She had enough for the day.

Emma: Enough! So you had decided to spoil this date before we came here, or this idea suddenly popped in your head?

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He started laughing. And then they both burst into laughter.

Emma: On second thought, instead of all those reasoning, I should have read the poem, “Why Do I Love” You, Sir? by Emily Dickinson.

Scott: The only thing that I don’t like about you is how you bring literature in between any conversation.

And they both were laughing really hard for the next good ten minutes.

The Reason of Our Love

This makes me wonder if it is really important to communicate the ‘What’, ‘When’, ‘How’ and ‘Why’ of love to the person we love. Isn’t love itself the highest and the purest form of communication, that surpasses any language or any other mode of communication?

Emily Dickinson

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As much we have heard about her, she was a typical rebel kid who is there in every family. A genius in her own, who defied the laws of gravity to rise against the norms. She dropped out of her school, never greeted people she met, loved to live in isolation, never married.

Out of 1800 poems written by her, this one is number 314. During her lifetime only a dozen were published. She also wrote a lot of letters, which give a good insight into the person she was.

Even after her death, the poems that were published were edited to add titles and fix the punctuations to fit the conventional poetic rules. Dickinson kept all the poems she wrote—about 1,800 of them—in hand-stitched collections called “fascicles.” It was only recently that we got to see her poems in its original form with slant rhyme, unconventional capitalization, and punctuation.

To read more about Emily Dickinson, click here.

“Why do I love” You, Sir? – Poem Analysis

Emily Dickinson, through this poem, tries to find an answer to the question, “Why do I love?”. And this “You” and “sir” could be a reference to God as well.

Throughout the poem, she keeps asserting that there is no reason for her love for him. It comes naturally to her and is a very part of her existence.

The love is so natural to her, as it is natural for the grass to wave as a result of wind. According to her, it is not necessary for us to know the reason for love. He (God) knows, and his wisdom is enough for us. And one shouldn’t question it, just like the lightning doesn’t question eye for the reason of its blinking on its eruption. Her love is so uncomplicated, just like her eyes perceiving light at the sunrise.

 

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To read more famous poems by the finest writers, click here.