Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.013 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

Years Are Nothing

by Anne Knish

−0.2469 − 0.5405i

Drawing the boundary…

Caller Herrin'

by Lady Nairne

−0.2582 − 0.5464i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

Years Are Nothing

by Anne Knish

Years are nothing;
Days alone count;
These, and the nights.
I have seen the grey stars marching,
And the green bubbles in wine,
And there are Gothic vaults of sleep.

My cathedral
Has one great spire
Tawny in the sunlight.
Gargoyles haunt its nave;
High up amid its dark-arches
Forgotten songs live shadowy.
Gold and sardonyx
Deck its altars.
Its mighty roof
Is copper rivering with the rain.

Tomorrow lightning swords will come
And thunder of cannon.
They will unrivet this roof
Of mighty copper.
Before the eyes of my gargoyles,
In the sound of my forgotten songs,
They will take it.
And as the rain sluices down
I shall have to follow my roof into the war.

Caller Herrin'

by Lady Nairne

Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
They're bonnie fish and halesome farin';
Wha'll buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth?

When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,
Dream'd ye aught o' our puir fellows,
Darkling as they faced the billows,
A' to fill the woven willows?
Buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth.

Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
They're no brought here without brave daring;
Buy my caller herrin',
Haul'd through wind and rain.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? &c.

Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin',
Wives and mithers maist despairing,
Ca' them lives o' men.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? &c.

When the creel o' herrin' passes,
Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
Gather in their braw pelisses,
Cast their heads and screw their faces.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? &c.

Caller herrin's no got lightlie,
Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie,
Spite o' tauntin', flauntin,' flingin',
Gow has set you a' a-singing.'
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? &c.

Neebour wives, now tent my tellin':
When the bonny fish ye're sellin',
At ae word be in yere dealin'—
Truth will stand when a' thing's failin'.

Wha'll buy my caller herrin':
They're bonnie fish and halesome farin':
Wha'll buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth?

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content