Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.023 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.

The Cypress

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

−0.0911 − 0.1006i

Drawing the boundary…

The almanac of time

by Dylan Thomas

−0.1004 − 0.1212i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Cypress

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

O Ivory bird, that shakest thy wan plumes, 
And dost forget the sweetness of thy throat 
For a most strange and melancholy note—
That wilt forsake the summer and the blooms 
And go to winter in a place remote!

The country where thou goest, Ivory bird!
It hath no pleasant nesting-place for thee; 
There are no skies nor flowers fair to see, 
Nor any shade at noon—as I have heard — 
But the black shadow of the Cypress tree.

The Cypress tree, it groweth on a mound; 
And sickly are the flowers it hath of May, 
Full of a false and subtle spell are they;
For whoso breathes the scent of them around, 
He shall not see the happy Summer day.

In June, it bringeth forth, O Ivory bird!
A winter berry, bitter as the sea; 
And whoso eateth of it, woe is he —
He shall fall pale, and sleep—as I have heard — 
Long in the shadow of the Cypress tree.

The almanac of time

by Dylan Thomas

The almanac of time hangs in the brain;
The seasons numbered by the inward sun,
The winter years, move in the pit of man;
His graph is measured as the page of pain
Shifts to the redwombed pen.

The calendar of age hangs in the heart,
A lover’s thought tears down the dated sheet,
The inch of time’s protracted to a foot
By youth and age, the mortal state and thought
Ageing both day and night.

The word of time lies on the chaptered bone,
The seed of time is sheltered in the loin:
The grains of life must seethe beneath the sun,
The syllables be said and said again:
Time shall belong to man.

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