This poem written by Marianne Moore has had several versions written by the author herself, given her desire on being clear and precise. The first version of this poem appeared in 1919 and it comprised 30 lines, which then she cut down to 13 in 1925. Then, finally, in 1967, she published a final version that was cut down to only 4 lines. A lot of criticism has been given to this poem as it seems at first that the poet is literally saying that she dislikes poetry. However, this comes because the last version of the poem does not give the reader a glimpse into what the author means really and whether she truly dislikes all poetry or not. However, after much studying it is discovered that what Moore is saying is not that she dislikes all poetry, but only the type that has given precedence to intelligence over imagination and therefore becomes so convoluted that people are incapable of understanding it. She, in turn, defends the type that she considers good and acceptable poetry and she defines it as the one where the imagination overcomes the intelligence and the abstract and allows the reader to almost feel what the author is trying to convey. This can be seen in this particular excerpt from the line that says thus: "nor till the poets among us can be "literalists of the imagination" - above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, "imaginary gardens with real toads in them," shall we have it."
Answer:
The doors were painted white by someone
