Fletcher’s speaker bursts into motion, turning stiff limbs into dance and drinking in sunlight, rain, earth, and wind. These sensations root him firmly in the present and in his own body: “I am myself: / I live.” He is tired of ruined temples, scholarly debates about past and future, and false causes — all the “marginal notes on life.” What he craves is direct experience, not explanation. The final image of a golden butterfly glancing against an unflecked wall captures the mood: brief, bright, fragile, and fully alive in the moment. The poem moves from restless energy into a quiet, self-contained joy.
Irradiations XXXI — Summary
My stiff-spread arms Break into sudden gesture; My feet seize upon the rhythm; My hands drag it upwards: Thus I create the dance.
I drink of the red bowl of the sunlight: I swim through seas of rain: I dig my toes into earth: I taste the smack of the wind: I am myself: I live.
The temples of the gods are forgotten or in ruins: Professors are still arguing about the past and the future: I am sick of reading marginal notes on life, I am weary of following false banners: I desire nothing more intensely or completely than this present; There is nothing about me you are more likely to notice than my being: Let me therefore rejoice silently, A golden butterfly glancing against an unflecked wall.