Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.spacegate.com.ua)
Date: 01-11-06 08:19
The former post was off topic and was thus removed as it was a violation of our
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The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
T. S. Eliot
People call me the painter of dancers, but I really wish to
capture movement itself.
No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
What thou dost foist upon us that is old;
And rather make them born to our desire
Than think that we before have heard them told.
Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wondering at the present nor the past,
For thy records and what we see doth lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste.
This I do vow and this shall ever be;
I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn\'t
say any other way -- things I had no words for.