The Violin (little of the Bandits Soul) - Magritte
I
In the realm of violin
consider the temerity of blue,
the way the sky in an azure poem
has to aspire to the condition
of music to gve enchantment
II
to the dull & torpid ear
that listens for the music of the spheres
of the wooden firmament
and will not hear the echo
of the transparency of its dream
III
of its own dying fall
down the equally crystalline
condition of the years
into the crimson of the season
of sonority;
IV
in the realm of Autumn, consider the horror
of the jagged sound, the language
gone awry to describe the good death,
the white cry
that verbalises the colors of distance.
More on this neglected poet here
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amon_Liner
Poem reprinted from
Asheville Poetry Review:-
10 Great Neglected Poets of the 20th Century
Spring/Summer 2000
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