blancwene: (THE MAN - HH)
I embraced the summer dawn.
Nothing was moving yet on the facades of palaces. The water was still.
Encampments of shadows still lingered along the road through the woods.
I walked, waking living and warm breaths, and jewels looked on, and wings
arose noiselessly.
The first undertaking, in the pathway already filled with fresh, pale sparkles,
was a flower which told me its name.
I laughed at the blond wasserfall disheveling itself through the pines: at its
silver summit, I recognized the goddess.
Then I lifted the veils one by one. In the pathway, gesticulating. On the plain,
where I denounced her to the cock. In the great city she fled among the steeples
and domes, and running like a beggar along the marble quays, I chased her.
Farther up the road, near a laurel grove, I wrapped her in the veils I had
collected, and I felt, a little, her immense body. Dawn and the child fell to the
bottom of the wood.
When I awoke it was noon.


--"Dawn," Arthur Rimbaud

et en français )
blancwene: (Siblings - SW)
This quiet roof, where dove-sails saunter by,
Between the pines, the tombs, throbs visibly.
Impartial noon patterns the sea in flame --
That sea forever starting and re-starting.
When thought has had its hour, oh how rewarding
Are the long vistas of celestial calm!

What grace of light, what pure toil goes to form
The manifold diamond of the elusive foam!
What peace I feel begotten at that source!
When sunlight rests upon a profound sea,
Time's air is sparkling, dream is certainty --
Pure artifice both of an eternal Cause.

Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence )

--"Le cimetière marin," Paul Valéry

et en français )

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It is always remarkable when someone sees your soul to a better degree than you see it yourself. You could count the people who see your soul on one hand. Others might know you but they would forget; their knowledge of you was like a weak and undisciplined thing. But that wasn’t so with him. He didn’t forget. It stuck in his mind. He had seen a kindred soul. He had seen it long ago. She only saw it now. But she was stricken with it. Suddenly she had identified him. There was the man she loved. As a result, she proceeded dementedly to behave as if the opposite were true.

–Nancy Lemann, The Fiery Pantheon

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