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Page 1 of 11928 · PDF PAGE 179
which makes one think of autumn suns, the beauty of well-ripened women, and Saint Mar- tins Summers. None of those who were present in the tav- ern of the Rue de la Villa-Hermosa will forget with what petulance the painter gave up his waistcoat to the poet, so well did he under- stand what a fine thing it was to sing of the poor dogs. Just so did a magnificent Italian tyrant in the Good Age offer to the divine Aretino either a dagger crusted with precious stones or a mantle fit to wear at Court in exchange for a well-wrought sonnet or a curiou…
1928 · PDF PAGE 87
…ng and as bright as the sun, walks in the deserted street; at this hour she is the sole living being under the mighty vault of blue; she makes a startling black blot upon the light. She moves forward, softly swaying her deli- cate torso on her broad hips; her robe of cling- ing silk, bright rose in colour, makes a lively contrast with the darkness of her skin, and moulds exactly her tall figure, her hollowed back and pointed breasts. Her red umbrella, filtering the light, throws on her dark face the blood-red tint of its reflections. The weight…
1928 · PDF PAGE 88
…irt by the corner and shows her splendid shining leg, and her foot, like the feet of the marble goddesses that Europe puts into museums, makes a faithful print of its shape on the fine sand, for Dorothy is so prodigiously coquettish that the pleasure of being admired is more to her than the pride of the freed- woman; and although she is free, she walks bare-foot. Thus she moves on, a harmony; happy in living, smiling an ivory smile as if she beheld afar off in space a mirror reflecting her move- ment and her beauty. At the hour when the very do…
1928 · PDF PAGE 141
of the vague but eternal charm of her boyish breast. Worn out perhaps, but not weary, and al- ways heroic, she makes one think of those splendid thoroughbreds which the eye of the true lover of horses can recognize even in the shafts of a cab or a dray. And then she is so sweet and fervent; she loves as one loves in autumn; one would say that the approach of winter kindles a new fire in her heart, and the servility of her tenderness has no element that might weary one therein.
1928 · PDF PAGE 134
…le of a su- perb flower blossoming on volcanic soil. There are women who fill one with desire to conquer them and to enjoy them, but she makes me wish to die by inches underneath her eyes.
1928 · PDF PAGE 92
were too fascinated to express anything less than a deep, dull joy. Our song-makers tell us that pleasure makes the soul kind, and softens the heart; the song was right that evening as far as I was concerned; not only was I made tender by this family of eyes, but I felt a little ashamed of our bottles and glasses, that were greater than our thirst. I turned my looks to yours, dear love, to read my thought therein. I plunged into your eyes, so beautiful and so strangely sweet; into your green eyes, indwelt by caprice, and in- spired by the moon;…
1928 · PDF PAGE 46
…sordid economy; so noble a counte- nance is the guarantee of that. Why then does she remain willingly in a set of surroundings where she makes so startling a stain? But my curiosity leading me to pass close to her, I thought that I could guess the reason. The tall widow held by the hand a child, clothed like herself in black. However moderate might be the charge of admission, it might perhaps be sufficient to pay for one of the ne- cessities of that tiny being, or better still, a su- perfluity, perhaps a toy. And no doubt she went home on foot …
1928 · PDF PAGE 27
… porters lodge, hangs about for an hour without daring to go home; another keeps a letter for a fortnight without unsealing it, or only makes up his mind after six months to take some step which was nec- essary a year before: such feel themselves sometimes hurried brusquely into action by an irresistible force, like the arrow from a bow. The moralist and the doctor, who set up to know everything, cannot explain whence comes so suddenly so mad an energy to flood these lazy and self-indulgent souls, and how, incapable as they are of accomplishin…
1928 · PDF PAGE 24
…ery waters seem to sleep; how different from human festivals! Here it is an orgy of silence. One might say that an ever-increasing light makes things glitter more and more: that the excited flowers burn with desire to rival the skys blue by the vigour of their colour, and that the heat, making their perfumes visible, sends them up before the altar of the day-star like clouds. Nevertheless, in all this enjoyment I beheld one suffering. At the fool of a colossal Venus, one of those artificial madmen, one of those professional buffoons whose duty…
1928 · PDF PAGE 133
…on in the depths of shadow. I would compare her to a black sun; if one could imagine a black star that shed light and happiness; but she makes one think more readily of the moon, which doubtless has marked her with its fearful influence. Not the white idyllic moon, which resembles a cold bride, but the sinister, intoxicating moon, hung from the height of a stormy night and jostled
1928 · PDF PAGE 137
…called Benedicta, who filled the atmosphere with the ideal, whose eyes shed forth the desire of greatness, beauty, glory, all that which makes a man be- lieve in immortality. But this miraculous girl was too lovely to live long, and some days after I had become acquainted with her she died. It was I myself that buried her, one day when the Spring swung its thurible even within cemeteries. It was I that buried her, well shut up into a bier of perfumed wood, incorruptible as are the cof- fers of India. And as my eyes remained fastened on the plac…
1928 · PDF PAGE 6
…of al languages is prostituted to no other uses than those of gluttony, snobbery and greed. The condition of England and America to- day makes it a profanation to translate Baude- laire; yet such is his virtue, and such the in- nate virtue of humanity, that if this volume only fall into the hands of the young, it may produce a crop of saints and artists even in those barren fields. ALEISTER CROWLEY.
1928 · PDF PAGE 43
… it is easy to recognize them. Besides, there is always in the mourning of poor persons something lack- ing; an absence of harmony which makes it more heartbreaking. Poverty is obliged to hag- gle over its sorrow; Wealth weeps, regardless of expense. Which is the sadder and more saddening widow? She who drags, holding his hand, a brat with whom she cannot share her reverie, or she who is quite alone? I do not know. . . . Once upon a time it happened to me that I fol- lowed during long hours a mournful old woman of this type; stiff, straight, un…
1928 · PDF PAGE 79
…still inflame in him a burning desire of imaginary distinctions. The night which brings shadows, which brought shadows into their minds, makes light in mine. And though it is not so rare to see the same cause beget two
1928 · PDF PAGE 120
…f having need of nobody. Their large dark eyes became quite brilliant while they made music; a music so surprising, so exciting, that it makes one want first to dance and then to weep and then to do