'One cannot speak anymore of being, one must speak only of mess.' - Samuel Beckett

Thursday, April 21, 2005

La Jolie Roussie

Be indulgent when you compare us
to those who were the perfection of order
We who look for adventure everywhere.

We're not your enemies,
we want to give you vast and strange domains
where mystery in flower spreads out for those who would pluck it.
Pity us who fight always at the boundaries
of infinity and the future,
pity our errors pity our sins.

From the book 'Calligrammes' by Guillaume Apollinaire 1930