train ennui
*
Open Door
Life is truly kind
Come to me, if I go to you it’s a game,
The angels of bouquets grant the flowers a change of hue.
The Immediate Life
What’s become of you why this white hair and pink
Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending
The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium
Solitude chases me with its rancour.
Lovely And Lifelike
A face at the end of the day
A cradle in day’s dead leaves
A bouquet of naked rain
Every ray of sun hidden
Every fount of founts in the depths of the water
Every mirror of mirrors broken
A face in the scales of silence
A pebble among other pebbles
For the leaves last glimmers of day
A face like all the forgotten faces.
—Paul Éluard "City of Pain"
*
train ennui
*
Open Door
Life is truly kind
Come to me, if I go to you it’s a game,
The angels of bouquets grant the flowers a change of hue.
The Immediate Life
What’s become of you why this white hair and pink
Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending
The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium
Solitude chases me with its rancour.
Lovely And Lifelike
A face at the end of the day
A cradle in day’s dead leaves
A bouquet of naked rain
Every ray of sun hidden
Every fount of founts in the depths of the water
Every mirror of mirrors broken
A face in the scales of silence
A pebble among other pebbles
For the leaves last glimmers of day
A face like all the forgotten faces.
—Paul Éluard "City of Pain"
*