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BLUE #9

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Tristesses de la lune

Ce soir, la lune rêve avec plus de paresse;
Ainsi qu’une beauté, sur de nombreux coussins,
Qui d’une main distraite et légère caresse

Avant de s’endormir le contour de ses seins,
Sur le dos satiné des molles avalanches,
Mourante, elle se livre aux longues pâmoisons,
Et promène ses yeux sur les visions blanches
Qui montent dans l’azur comme des floraisons.

Quand parfois sur ce globe, en sa langueur oisive,
Elle laisse filer une larme furtive,
Un poète pieux, ennemi du sommeil,

Dans le creux de sa main prend cette larme pâle,
Aux reflets irisés comme un fragment d’opale,
Et la met dans son coeur loin des yeux du soleil.

— Charles Baudelaire

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I caught “Gustave Le Gray” like clouds in this piece tonight and once again a Waxing Gibbous moon. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/gray/hd_gray.htm

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4 responses

  1. THE SADNESS OF THE MOON by Charles Baudelaire

    THE Moon more indolently dreams to-night
    Than a fair woman on her couch at rest,
    Caressing, with a hand distraught and light,
    Before she sleeps, the contour of her breast.

    Upon her silken avalanche of down,
    Dying she breathes a long and swooning sigh;
    And watches the white visions past her flown,
    Which rise like blossoms to the azure sky.

    And when, at times, wrapped in her languor deep,
    Earthward she lets a furtive tear-drop flow,
    Some pious poet, enemy of sleep,

    Takes in his hollow hand the tear of snow
    Whence gleams of iris and of opal start,
    And hides it from the Sun, deep in his heart.

    poems censored from the first edition
    1868 Fleurs du mal
    Definitive edition published after Baudelaire’s death

    September 6, 2014 at 8:33 pm

  2. Moon dribbling honey upon lips of lunatics
    Orchards and country towns tonight grow greedy
    Stars resemble bees
    Of a luminous liquid that drips from trellises
    Each honey beam oozes from heaven
    Taking its own sweet time
    Hidden I glimpse the sweet adventure
    But I fear the fiery sting of that bee Arcturus
    He has flung me deceiving beams
    And culled his moon honey from the compass rose of the winds

    Guillaume Apollinaire

    “Without poets, without artists… everything would fall apart into chaos. There would be no more seasons, no more civilizations, no more thought, no more humanity, no more life even; and impotent darkness would reign forever. Poets and artists together determine the features of their age, and the future meekly conforms to their edit.”
    ― Guillaume Apollinaire

    “Come to the edge,’ he said. ‘We are afraid,’ they said. ‘Come to the edge, he said,’ and slowly, reluctantly, they came. He pushed them and they flew.”
    ― Guillaume Apollinaire

    September 7, 2014 at 12:13 am

  3. The BLUE in this post refers to seeing a decent man (even though a Republican) destroyed for what I regard as business as usual, very sad!

    As usual Bill Moyers and his guest are the voice of reason, especially concerning lobbyist who seem no different than gift giving weasels : http://billmoyers.com/episode/elizabeth-warren-on-fighting-back-against-wall-st-giants/

    Currently watching “House of Cards” which I suppose doesn’t help?

    September 7, 2014 at 12:57 pm

  4. Washington knew better than most that politics was not for the naive, having lost his first stand for the House of Burgesses — because his opponent lured voters to the polls with the promise of a stiff drink. Washington would win the next time, by supplying supporters with moonshine from his vast estates.

    http://www.timesdispatch.com/news/state-regional/virginia-politics/jeff-schapiro/schapiro-mcdonnell-convictions-alter-virginia-s-sense-of-self/article_614f9ce9-6823-5fa3-83cb-566040dcfe4a.html

    September 8, 2014 at 3:11 pm

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