There is a haunting phantom called Regret, A shadowy creature robed somewhat like Woe, But fairer in the face, whom all men know By her sad mien and eyes forever wet. No heart would seek her; but once having met, All take her by the hand, and to and fro They wander through those paths of long ago — Those hallowed ways 'twere wiser to forget.
One day she led me to that lost land's gate And bade me enter; but I answered "No! I will pass on with my bold comrade, Fate; I have no tears to waste on thee — no time; My strength I hoard for heights I hope to climb: No friend art thou for souls that would be great."
O love, behold thy feet are shod with flame! Thy body clothed with torture as a dress; Too weak thy stricken lips are to express Thy mighty grief, or call upon the name Of Him who gives the sorrow and the shame. Thy lips have tasted the salt bitterness Of tears like blood, wrung out of thy distress. Thy soul must reap a barren, bitter fame.
Fair lands beneath thee, and fair skies above. Thy heart falls blind, outside of that fair land Whereto it may not come; all words are vain, — It is the unattainable we love. But rest a little, and a friendly hand Shall give thee peace, and ease from all thy pain.
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Track 1
How this picture is made
What a fractal is
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.
How the boundary is drawn
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.
What the branching signifies
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.