A quiet notice V2Melody closes at midnight on , Spanish time.

A note from Richard

V2Melody will close at midnight on 31 December 2026

This site has been a retirement project in musical poetry: poems chosen with care and set to music, offered freely for as long as it felt right to keep the garden open.

After the death of my mother, the work no longer holds the place it once did in my life. I have gone as far with it as I wish to go. Like a sand mandala, it was made to be completed and then released. I am not attached to its permanence, and I do not believe any of it needs to last beyond the time it was given.

My wife and I are simplifying our days. The server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the quieter life we want.

Until midnight on 31 December 2026, Spanish time, everything remains available exactly as it is. After that, the server will be switched off and the site will disappear.

Thank you to anyone who found a poem, a track, or a quiet moment here.

The pleasure was in the making.

Richard



Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.041 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.

Rest Only in the Grave

by James Clarence Mangan

0.2554 − 0.3047i

Drawing the boundary…

—And Bees of Paradise

by Hart Crane

0.2940 − 0.3192i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Rest Only in the Grave

by James Clarence Mangan

I rode till I reached the House of Wealth—
'Twas filled with Riot and blighted health.

I rode till I reached the House of Love—
'Twas vocal with sighs beneath and above!

I rode till I reached the House of Sin—
There were shrieks and curses without and within.

I rode till I reached the House of Toil—
Its inmates had nothing to bake or boil.

I rode in search of the House of Content,
But never could reach it, far as I went!

The House of Quiet, for Strong and Weak,
And Poor and Rich, I have still to seek.

This House is narrow, and dark, and small,
But the only Peaceful House of all.

—And Bees of Paradise

by Hart Crane

I had come all the way here from the sea,
Yet met the wave again between your arms
Where cliff and citadel—all verily
Dissolved within a sky of beacon forms—

Sea gardens lifted rainbow-wise through eyes
I found.

             Yes, tall, inseparably our days
Pass sunward. We have walked the kindled skies
Inexorable and girded with your praise,

By the dove filled, and bees of Paradise.

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