Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.032 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.

A Song of the Road

by Nora Hopper Chesson

−0.1723 + 0.3477i

Drawing the boundary…

All Things Can Tempt Me

by William Butler Yeats

−0.1937 + 0.3245i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Song of the Road

by Nora Hopper Chesson

All the mills in the world are grinding gold grain, 
All hearts in the world like my heart should be fain 
For my foot goes in time to a holiday measure 
And the bird in my bosom is singing for pleasure. 

Tall soldiers in gold stand the plumed ranks of corn, 
And the poppies are dancing for joy of the morn: 
They're gipsies and vagrants, the home-keepers say, 
But my heart is at one with the poppies to-day. 

I know not what end to my travel shall be, 
Or what fairy Prince rides a-seeking for me — 
He may be a Sheogue in graithing of gold, 
Or a graybeard who tarries for young maids and old. 

Meanwhile I go tramping the merry world over, 
With the flower of my heart folded close for my lover: 
Folded safely and close till my Prince come and claim 
The bud long asleep, and the flower turn a flame. 

Meanwhile I go tramping, a masterless maid, 
With flowers blowing for me in sunshine and shade, 
White poppies, red poppies, sea-poppies of amber, 
And a wreath for my head of all wild vines that clamber. 

I am one with the wind and the flowers in the corn 
And I and the wind laugh aloud in our scorn 
At the bedesmen who quarrel earth's meadow-lands over, 
While there's roses on bushes and honey in clover. 

All Things Can Tempt Me

by William Butler Yeats

All things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman's face, or worse— 
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
Now nothing but comes readier to the hand
Than this accustomed toil. When I was young,
I had not given a penny for a song
Did not the poet sing it with such airs
That one believed he had a sword upstairs;
Yet would be now, could I but have my wish,
Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish.

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