The syllable comes
And then the syllable goes.
The poor syllable.
Portrait of Clara (as a chemist)
1 month ago
Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less,
Withdraws into its happiness:
The mind, that ocean where each kind
Does straight its own resemblance find;
Yet it creates, transcending these,
Far other worlds, and other seas;
Annihilating all that's made
To a green thought in a green shade.
Andrew Marvell, "The Garden" 41-48
4 comments:
I love that, very much.
Triste. Tres tres triste. It is both Japanese and French. How did he do that?
Fusion. He is the Wa-fumi of poetry.
That is fabulous...
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