2002-01-22 - 12:54 p.m.
The thoughts do not follow hard upon the event. Whoever She is, She will not be Patricia the first. Her thoughts were not contained in a portfolio. A meandering glance crisply returned. Shall it be that I am always the unflammable materia? But who am I to speak? How had Keats trolled it? 'Though the dull brain perplexes and retards' Indeed. I am allowed a moment, I hope. I have been delirious lately. I am at a bank of the Euphrates, kneeling. The eyes have it. That selfsame question - pondered, whispered. I want to empty the contents of this life to have them pored over. But I am tired of answers that are cold to the touch. There are worse states, certainly. 'In the Dugout' I hurl myself towards you and I think you hurl yourself towards me too A force comes from us a solid fire and it welds us together But then comes an opposing force which stops us from seeing one another Opposite me the chalk wall's crumbling There are fractures Long marks left by tools smooth marks and it's as if they've been cut in tallow Cracked edges get knocked off by the movements of men from my gun crew But tonight it's my soul that's hollowed out and empty It's as if one goes on and on falling there and never finds bottom And there's nothing to clutch at What falls there what lives there are ugly beings of some kind of future life from a raw future that's not yet been cultivated or refined or made human This great emptiness of my soul lacks a sun it lacks what brings light That's how it is today this evening not always Luckily it's only this evening Other days I cling to you Other days I find consolation from loneliness and all horrors Through imagining your beauty In order to raise it high above the enraptured universe Then I think I'm imagining it in vain I don't know your beauty through any of my senses Nor even through words Does that make my love of beauty vain too? Do you exist my love Or are you only an entity I have created without meaning So as to people my solitude Are you a goddess like the goddesses the Greeks created so as to feel less down-hearted I worship you my exquisite goddess even if you live only in my imagination I adore you In spite of the sadness of the chalk and the brutality of the unending cannon fire. Guillaume Apollinaire ________________________________________ Let it only be written, by others: 'Here lies one whose name was writ on water.' troilus
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