Poem fractal
0.039 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.
0.6630 − 0.5174i
Drawing the boundary…
0.6694 − 0.5562i
Drawing the boundary…
Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.
You'll love me yet!—and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June rear'd that bunch of flowers you carry,
From seeds of April's sowing.
I plant a heartful now: some seed
At least is sure to strike,
And yield—what you'll not pluck indeed,
Not love, but, may be, like.
You'll look at least on love's remains,
A grave's one violet:
Your look?—that pays a thousand pains.
What 's death? You'll love me yet!
Mise Raifteirí an file,
Bruite brónach bocht,
Is searbh mo chás, mo sgéal féinig,
Gan airgead, gan óir, gan phingin.
Gan lúth i gcos, gan radharc i súil,
A' dul i méid gach uile dhóigh;
Gan aon duine le mo threorú,
Ach Dia liom is mo bhata.
Fadó bhíodh mé ag ól is ag pógadh,
Ag imirt cártaí is ag rince,
Ach anois táim lag, fann, agus tinn,
Agus ní féidir liom siúl ná léim.
Tá mo chroí trom, tá mo cheann faoi bhrón,
Tá mo shúile dall, ní fheicim aon rud;
Tá mo chluasa bodhar, ní chloisim ceol binn,
Agus níl aon neart i mo lámha.
Ach tá súil agam go bhfaighidh mé áit
I measc na naomh i gcathair na glóire,
Áit a mbeidh mé sásta agus sona,
Saor ó gach pian agus péin.
A fractal is a shape that keeps its pattern when you look closer. Coastlines, trees, shells, and weather do this. The large form and the small form are the same kind of thing. A poem can be drawn that way. The shape of the whole comes from the shape of the lines.
Primunia is the name for the source of that order: the pattern under the pattern, already there in a tree, a shell, and a verse.
The number under the picture is the poem constant. It is read from the build of the lines: their length, how uneven they are, the size of the stanzas, the share of vowels, and the way the lines end. A new word moves the number when it changes that build. The same poem always gives the same number.
Drawn on its own, that number sits in a quiet part of the plane, and most poems would look like the same soft disk. So the number is carried outward along its own direction until it meets the edge of the Mandelbrot set, where the shape turns sharp. The picture is the Julia set of that meeting place.
Each point on the canvas is folded again and again by one small rule. Points that stay near the rule form the dark interior. Points that rush away become the coloured bands. The hue comes from the poem constant, and the brightest bands turn toward gold. Change the length of a line, the stanza, or the vowel share, and both the number and the picture move.
Branching draws the poem as a tree. Each turn follows a line, and every smaller branch repeats that pattern. A longer line reaches farther. The letters at the start of a line bend the next turn. A higher share of vowels opens the branches wider.
The trunk takes its colour from the poem constant and warms toward gold at the tips. When the poem has more than one stanza, gold forks leave the trunk. Each fork is a stanza beyond the first, up to three. The tree divides where the poem divides. One stanza remains a single trunk.
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