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rejectomorph

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Impatience [Jan. 4th, 2010|12:01 am]
rejectomorph
What's to be done with this winterly ennui? Each day recedes as a line of muted color staining the horizon, and a chilled night follows. Tonight there is a gibbous moon, but I remain uninspired by its light. There are a few clouds, but they hold no interest for me. All the energy of spring remains locked away. In a few weeks the camellias, most impatient of flowers, will probably emerge, but in the meantime their closed buds might as well be stones. The only cheering thing is that each evening the light lasts a bit longer. January is a weary walk uphill.



Sunday Verse



Identity of Images


by Robert Desnos


I am fighting furiously with animals and bottles
In a short time perhaps ten hours have passed one
   after another
The beautiful swimmer who was afraid of coral wakes
   this morning
Coral crowned with holly knocks on her door
Ah! coal again always coal
I conjure you coal tutelary genius of dreams and my
   solitude let me let me speak again of the beautiful
   swimmer who was afraid of coral
No longer tyrannize this seductive subject of my
   dreams
The beautiful swimmer was reposing in a bed of lace
   and birds
The clothes on a chair at the foot of the bed were
   illuminated by gleams the last gleams of coal
The one that had come from the depths of the sky and 
   earth and sea was proud of its coral beak and great
   wings of crape
All night long it had followed divergent funerals toward
   suburban cemeteries
It had been to embassy balls marked white satin gowns with
   its imprint a fern leaf
It had risen terribly before ships and the ships had not 
   returned
Now crouched in the chimney it was watching for the 
   waking of foam and singing of kettles
Its resounding step had disturbed the silence of nights
   in streets with sonorous pavements
Sonorous coal coal master of dreams coal
Ah tell me where is that beautiful swimmer the swimmer
   who was afraid of coral?
But the swimmer herself has gone back to sleep
And I remain face to face with the fire and shall remain
   through the night interrogating the coal with wings of
   darkness that persists in projecting on my monotonous
   road the shadow of its smoke and the terrible 
   reflections of its embers
Sonorous coal coal pitiless coal 


–Translated by Louis Simpson

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