Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.048 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.

One Touch From You

by Richard

0.7443 + 0.0565i

Drawing the boundary…

L'Albatros

by Charles Baudelaire

0.7876 + 0.0365i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

One Touch From You

by Richard

My darling, my love, my friend forever true,
The years have flown, but my heart still yearns for you.
Your touch still sets my soul aflame,
A passion that will never wane.

In the stillness of the night, skin upon skin,
Your caresses fill me with a joy deep within.
Our bodies entwined, heartbeats as one,
This intimate moment, as bright as the sun.

Gentle fingers tracing every curve,
Your touch sparks fire in every nerve.
You are my one, my only, my everything,
One touch from you makes my heart sing.

Remember when our love did first arrive?
Your gentle hands, they made me feel alive.
So many years later, our love remains aglow,
We never forgot to let our feelings show.

You are my one and only, my heart forever true,
Your touch, a bond, unbreakable, our love will see us through.
So keep touching me, my darling, my love, my everything,
Your soft and gentle caresses, sweet joys to me they bring.

One touch from you makes the universe sing.

My darling, my love, my friend forever true,
You are my one, my only, my everything,
I'm so in love with you.
I'm so in love with you.

L'Albatros

by Charles Baudelaire

Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d'eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!

Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.

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