Friday, December 27, 2024

Of Orpheus’ Lyre in the Underworld (Or On the Art of Poetry in Today’s Hell)

 

Hell is an inducing endless forgetting

of how to catch and unmask principal lies

Pour n’être pas les esclaves du Temps.”

 

We as humans are invested much

in the shades which we cast or shed

although still afar even from those bats

who see so ably in the deepest dark,

grasping so well inside their minds

anything they render like great poets

into resonance and percipient sound.

 

And to that seeing and knowing

to what all else is blind there is

a science and an art that draws,

collects and compiles what it can

from the Hades’ currents, transient

& incessant forgetting under the name,

a sentence Avec ou sans ce qui n’est pas.

 

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