Vigils
I
It is repose lit up, nor fever, nor
languor, on the bed or on the meadow.
It is the friend nor ardent nor weak. The friend.
It is the loved one nor tormenting nor tormented. The loved one.
The air and the world unsought. Life.
Was it quite this?
And the dream cooled.
II
The building's skeleton gets the light
again. From both sides of the hall, negligible décors, harmonic
elevations join. The wall across from the watcher is a
psychological succession of frieze sections, atmospheric bands
and geological accidents.Intense and rapid dream of
sentimental groups with beings of every character amidst every
appearance.
III
The vigil's lamps and carpets make the
sound of waves, at night, along the hull and about steerage.
The vigil's ocean, like Amelia's breasts.
The tapestries, halfway down, coppices of lace emerald-tinted,
the vigil's turtledoves fly at.
.......................................
The dark foyer's plaque, real suns of
strands; ah! well of magics, sole view of dawn, this time.
Mystic
On the bankside angels turn their woolen
skirts in steel-and-emerald pastures.
Fields of flame leap to the peak of the hillock. On the left the
arete's compost is stomped on by all homicides and battles, and
all disastrous noise runs its curve. Behind the arete on the
right, the line of Orients, of progress.
And while the band at the top of the picture is formed of the
turning leaping rumor of seashells and human nights,
The blooming sweetness of the stars and the heavens and the rest
descends upon the bankside, like a basketagainst our face,
and makes the abyss blossoming and blue beneath.
Sunup
I embraced the summer sunup.
Nothing yet budged on the face of the palaces. The tide was neap.
Shadow camps had not left the road in the wood. I walked, awaking
keen warm breaths; and gems gazed, and wings arose noiselessly.
The first enterprise was, in the path already full of fresh and
pallid brilliance, a flower which told me its name.
I laughed at the blond wasserfall tousling through the pines; at
the silvery summit I recognized the goddess.
Then I lifted one by one her veils. In the lane, waving my arms.
On the plain, where I announced her to the cock. In the great
city she fled amongst steeples and domes, and, running like a
beggar on the marble quays, I chased her.
At the top of the road, near a laurel wood, I wrapped her with
her gathered veils, and I felt a little her immense body. Sunup
and the child fell at the bottom of the wood.
Upon waking, it was noon.
Flowers
From a golden stepamong cordons of silk, gray gauzes, green
velvets, crystal disks that darken like bronze in the sunI
see the digitalis open on a carpet filigreed of silver, hair and
eyes.
Pieces of yellow gold strewn over agate, mahogany pillars
supporting a dome of emeralds, bouquets of white satin and wands
of rubies ring the water rose.
Like a god with enormous blue eyes and shapes of snow, the sea
and sky attract to terraces of marble the crowd of young and
strong roses.
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