Lunchtime walk ii: "beau rouleau sismique"

Our hottie in the T shirt has entered this compliment on a posting by Lionel André, a dialogue mounted for our fortunate consideration. The two poets are like the rest of us, drawn to the contemplation of trees. In a posting emphasising the tree's woven textures, André adopted the radical step of analogising an elevation of brick and mortar, and working the image to evoke a tree cut or fossilised in isometric section, depicting time within the rings we all know in concentric perspective. It isn't what he did; it's his letting be known what he saw. This was illumination we could hear. 

This vision wants to be and can be heard - and in French, as it was written; particularly the final phrase, which sounds as if it were an aria emanating from a wind instrument without valves, over a single resinous viola note, midflight. Ashbery has caught that string's grip.


Il y a une troupe des petits comédiens en costumes, aperçus sur la route à travers la lisière du bois.


There is a troupe of child actors in costume, seen on the highway through the edge of the forest.

For me a vigorous but also febrile sensitivity is one of the qualities of our hottie in the T shirt, which draws me to a blog which has amassed the seniority, now, of an entire year. One could not have imagined this prodigal giving away of one's own gorgeous dreams. Always, I'm just passing by the edge, admiring what I see inside. Much of what's here is borrowed from him, none of its use is his fault.








Arthur Rimbaud
Illuminations
  Enfance [extract]
John Ashbery, translation
op. cit.