not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

the mirror in the ground, under the snow, like grain



A Stone
 
They loved that mirror
Whose frame, though chipping away, was still
Adorned with horns of plenty from the golden age.
Two dancing figures faced each other,
The shoulders and bellies were bare,
The hands
Touched, clasped one another,
But the eyes, it is true, did not meet.
 
They put
The mirror in the ground, under the snow,
Like grain; like the corn of heaven
That must rot for a long time in the mud of the world.
 
Yves Bonnefoy

 

6 comments:

  1. minimalsitisk, kreativt, kunstnerisk !
    hilsen dirk

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    Replies
    1. thank you, dirk. a meeting of happenstance. just that day William had challenged me to shoot an empty mirror. of course this is impossible, but out in the woods on a snowy path we came upon a mirror! later a wolf, but a mirror! how could i have imagined?

      xo
      erin

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  2. Of course Erin... I now understand your attraction for white space. In one of your comment you spoke about Alix Cléo Roubaud. I've made three posts about her... She was really weird... But I like his pictures and texts... this two pictures with the broken mirror are wonderful... You have style and class

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    Replies
    1. a., will you direct me to those posts?

      xo
      erin

      Delete
  3. And what will rise up after the seasoning and rotting of the goddesses?

    This is too beautiful for words, the poem, your photos, how I feel.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. that last stanza defies reason and yet in its way of encapsulating an unspeakable reality is the very basis of reason itself. i love it too, ruth!

      xo
      erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))