Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.006 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 Jester

by Nora Hopper Chesson

−0.2113 + 0.1303i

Drawing the boundary…

Revolutions

by Matthew Arnold

−0.2068 + 0.1270i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Jester

by Nora Hopper Chesson

A Jester, a winner of empty laughter,
Grew sick of life, and the life hereafter, 
Of sea, and sky, and the seasons four. 
"I will die," he said, "as my mirth is dying, 
Lie down as the fallen tree is lying 
On Earth's brown bosom, and hear no more 
The madman's laughter, the sage's sighing." 

The Jester went when his mood was sorest 
Into the heart of the autumn forest; 
Round him and past him in nerveless haste 
The dead leaves whirled in a helpless eddy. 
"Here," said the Jester, "the year makes ready 
To die as gladly as I, to waste 
Like wine that's spilled from a cup unsteady." 

He lay in the leaves, and a sound of laughter 
Rang through the forest: before him, after, 
Around, above him the laughter swept. 
A girl came berrying down the hedges — 
The wind dropped dead at the forest edges 
As a bird from the stone that a slinger fledges. 
The woman came, and the man that slept 
In the Jester out of the dead leaves leapt; 
He caught her hands, and her heart he kept. 

Revolutions

by Matthew Arnold

Before man parted for this earthly strand,
While yet upon the verge of heaven he stood,
God put a heap of letters in his hand,
And bade him make with them what word he could.

And man has turned them many times; made Greece,
Rome, England, France; yes, nor in vain essayed
Way after way, changes that never cease!
The letters have combined, something was made.

But ah! an inextinguishable sense
Haunts him that he has not made what he should;
That he has still, though old, to recommence,
Since he has not yet found the word God would.

And empire after empire, at their height
Of sway, have felt this boding sense come on;
Have felt their huge frames not constructed right,
And drooped, and slowly died upon their throne.

One day, thou say’st, there will at last appear
The word, the order, which God meant should be.
—Ah! we shall know that well when it comes near;
The band will quit man’s heart, he will breathe free.

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