& the Earth shook away & the ground opened & the auspices of the laboratory were laid bare, we had already known.
“…that the world is intelligible to the seer, to the “poète voyant,” who alone possesses the key to all correspondences. All he need do is perceive the hidden analogies of Nature and express them in appropriate words. The second quatrain affirms the existence of synesthesia, whereby, at a certain depth, all perceptions have a common Form…”
— John D. Hubert, “Symbolism, Correspondence and Memory”
Baudelaire watching people stumble in the street.
“I go there, all dead, all dead. Into the next room [à côté] so far so far from my heart. And I enter.” – Jacques Derrida
“And when we enter the night, we’ll enter By our own two feet.” – Ricardo Reis
In the great quietness of these winter evenings there is one clock: the sea. Its dim momentum in the mind is the fugue upon which this writing is made. Empty cadences of sea-water, licking its own wounds, sulking along the mouths of the delta, boiling upon those deserted beaches – empty, forever empty under the gulls: white scribble on the grey, munched by clouds. If there are ever sails here they die before the land shadows them.
Wreckage washed up on the pediments of islands, the last crust, eroded by the weather, stuck in the blue maw of water . . . gone!
– Lawrence Durrell (Justine, 1957)