Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.016 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 Alchemist

by A. A. Milne

−0.4566 + 0.4253i

Drawing the boundary…

Love

by Humbert Wolfe

−0.4557 + 0.4415i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Alchemist

by A. A. Milne

There lives an old man at the top of the street
And the end of his beard reaches down to his feet,
And he's just the one person I'm longing to meet,
I think that he sounds so exciting;
For he talks all the day to his tortoiseshell cat,
And he asks about this, and explains about that,
And at night he puts on a big wide-awake hat
And sits in the writing-room, writing.

He has worked all his life (and he's terribly old)
At a wonderful spell which says, "Lo, and behold!
Your nursery fender is gold!"—and it's gold!
(Or the tongs, or the rod for the curtain);
But some how he hasn't got hold of it quite,
Or the liquid you pour on it first isn't right,
So that's why he works at it night after night
Till he knows he can do it for certain.

Love

by Humbert Wolfe

I will tell you what love is: Love is the broken
sound in the night of feet that pass. Unwoken,
the lover stirs in his sleep, and, while he stirs,
a foot has gone past in the night as light as hers.

I will tell you what love is: Love is the proud
mouth that was shut in marble, and the loud
songs of the world are sung on lips all warm,
but these cold lips sing not, and have worked such harm.

I will tell you what love does: Man builds a greater
city than Babylon with gardens, and love, turned traitor,
sells the high town to the dream's eternal foeman,
that comes with the false sweet key, by night, of a woman.

I will tell you how love ends: Without a sound
love stabs in the dark of the heart, and leaves no wound.
And what was a man goes slowly, listening
for a tune played on a harp, but it has no string.

I will tell you all these things, and when they are told,
I shall remember the austere head of gold,
his slender motionless grace, and how he stands
looking with happy wonder at the cowslips in his hands.

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