Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.008 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.

Chaplinesque

by Hart Crane

−0.1427 − 0.1837i

Drawing the boundary…

Rozłączenie

by Juliusz Słowacki

−0.1350 − 0.1841i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Chaplinesque

by Hart Crane

We make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.

We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!

And yet these fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
What blame to us if the heart live on.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

Rozłączenie

by Juliusz Słowacki

Rozłączeni — lecz jedno o drugim pamięta,
Pomiędzy nami latają liście i ptaki,
I cierń rośnie w pustyni, jak gdyby ujęta
Ręka Boża sadziła tam kwiaty wszelakie.

Rozłączeni — lecz jedno o drugim pamięta.
Słyszę twoich kroków echo i szum twych sukienek;
Widzę liście spadające i zmiatane w chmury
Wiatrem — jak twoje ręce — i twoje westchnienia.

A cóż tam, na końcu rozłączeń?
Świat mglisty, znikły łąki kwieciste,
Słońce gasnące i cienie zachodu,
I sny, co żadnej nie dają przyszłości.

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