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VigilsAfter Rimbaud

I

Its the repose of lightning; neither fevernor languor on the bed or on the lawn.

Its the friend; neither ardent nor feeble;

the friend.

Its the belovd; neither tormenting nor

tormented; the belovd.

Air and world undiscovered. Life.

-Was that it then?

-And the dream freezes.

II

Illumination returns to the hewn wood of the

house. From the two extremities of the room

scattered decors, harmonic elevations join. The

mural opposite the watcher is a psychologicalsuccession of partitioned images, jet streams,

geologic upheavals a dream, intense and

rapid of sentimental groups with beings of all

character among all appearances.

III

The vigil lamps and carpets make the sound

of waves, along the night, the length of the keel

and around steerage.

The sea of the vigil, like Emilys breasts.

The tapestries, just at the midpoint, a tangle

of emerald lace where cast the doves of the

vigil.

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IV

The plaque of the dark hearth, of real suns onstruck sands; O, the fosse of the magi, sole

view of dawn, this once.