Do I really care about what happened? Probably not.
Please no one fuck with me today.
I love this poem. Maybe I will reflect on it when my soul is not so overcome with this wrath and sadness.
Evening Harmony
Here comes the time where quivering over the stem
Every flower evaporates like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
Every flower evaporates like a censer;
The violin trembles like an afflicted heart;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like a great alter.
The violin trembles like an afflicted heart,
A tender heart, which hates the nothing vast and black!
The sky is sad and beautiful like a great alter;
The sun is drowned in its clotted blood.
A tender heart, which hates the nothing vast and black,
From the luminous past gathers all relics!
The sun is drowned in its clotted blood…
Your memory in me shines like a monstrance!
Here comes the time where quivering over the stem
Every flower evaporates like a censer;
Sounds and perfumes turn in the evening air;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
Every flower evaporates like a censer;
The violin trembles like an afflicted heart;
Melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and beautiful like a great alter.
The violin trembles like an afflicted heart,
A tender heart, which hates the nothing vast and black!
The sky is sad and beautiful like a great alter;
The sun is drowned in its clotted blood.
A tender heart, which hates the nothing vast and black,
From the luminous past gathers all relics!
The sun is drowned in its clotted blood…
Your memory in me shines like a monstrance!
Harmonie du soir
Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir,
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
----
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
----
I used to read this poem to M. and he would find himself offended at the misuse of the Catholic imagery. But it was funny to watch him squirm. He and I used to lay in bed and I would read this to him in my butchered French, slurring sounds like I thought the people did over there. While one has left the other returns. The author of my drunken ramblings and the angry champagne glasses smashing on the bricks below. Blah blah blah.
When I first read this poem I tried to find a pattern with the lines but I could not. Perhaps it's better that way.
"Be careful."
When I first read this poem I tried to find a pattern with the lines but I could not. Perhaps it's better that way.
"Be careful."
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