Friday, February 11, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
For Benjamin PERET...
Max Ernst - illustration for La Breis Galante 1949 by Benjamin Peret
TOM TOM 1 for Benjamin Peret
even the river of earth blood
even the blood of the ruptured sun
even the blood of a hundred nails of sun
even the blood of the suicide fire beasts
even the blood of ashes blood of salt blood
of bloods of love
even the flaming blood of the fire bird
herons and falcons
rise and burn
AIME CESAIRE
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Edmond Jabès ... poem...
From "Groundless,"
by Edmond Jabès (b. Cairo, 1912–d. Paris, 1991)
Translated by Keith Waldrop
I
No-man's-land, obsessed page
A dwelling-place is a long insomnia
in the hooded trails of a mine.
My days are days of roots,
love's yoke extolled.
The sky is always to cross and
foreground to be bed with new nights.
I form, in my weeds,
a wedge in the wall's opaque brightness.
The earth is steeped in
empty dreams of travel.
VI
Land beyond night, which the sun wrenches from
meditation, from the thorns of doubt.
Flowers parade their artful candor. The stems
emulate grand adventures in space.
Honey flows between stones
which this cement will join.
VII
Around the branches, the world mimes its hunger.
So many cries for a tree, fragrant god to
plant, to bend by a magic round. . .
My secrets are orchards.
There is no trick to the mystery.
* with thanks to Ruairi
Unica Zürn... drawing...
she opens out, forming a shining star
made of countless new arms and legs
made of countless new arms and legs
and necks and heads,
she becomes a beautiful, flower-like monstrosity....
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Andre Domin ...illustration for "Litanies de la Rose"...1919
"Litanies de la Rose"
Remy de Gourmont (Author)
Paris: Editions Rene Kieffer, 1919
Remy de Gourmont (Author)
Paris: Editions Rene Kieffer, 1919
Rose with dark eyes,
mirror of your nothingness,
rose with dark eyes,
make us believe in the mystery,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
Rose the colour of pure gold,
oh safe deposit of the ideal,
rose the colour of pure gold,
give us the key of your womb,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
Rose the colour of silver,
censer of our dreams,
rose the colour of silver,
take our heart and turn it into smoke,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
mirror of your nothingness,
rose with dark eyes,
make us believe in the mystery,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
Rose the colour of pure gold,
oh safe deposit of the ideal,
rose the colour of pure gold,
give us the key of your womb,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
Rose the colour of silver,
censer of our dreams,
rose the colour of silver,
take our heart and turn it into smoke,
hypocrite flower,
flower of silence.
Remy de Gourmont
William Sharp, a.k.a. 'Fiona Macleod' & John Duncan...The Celtic Twilight
ETAIN
[Dreamily
I have heard. . . . I have dreamed. . . .I,
too, have heard,
Have sung . . . that song: O lordly ones that
dwell
In secret places in the hollow hills,
Who have put moonlit dreams into my mind
And filled my noons with visions, from afar
I hear sweet dewfall voices, and the clink,
The delicate silvery spring and clink
Of faery lances underneath the moon.
too, have heard,
Have sung . . . that song: O lordly ones that
dwell
In secret places in the hollow hills,
Who have put moonlit dreams into my mind
And filled my noons with visions, from afar
I hear sweet dewfall voices, and the clink,
The delicate silvery spring and clink
Of faery lances underneath the moon.
from the immortal hour by Fiona Macleod
an enjoyable paper on Sharp and Duncan and the Celtic Twilight
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Lynd Ward... Mad Man's Drum.. Part 1
a few scans from one of my favourite artists, and one of the finest wood engravers of the twentieth century ..
Mad Man Drum ~ A Novel in Woodcuts
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)