A special thank you to my colleague (and friend) who has filed some old books of poems in my locker, including the Multiple Splendour of the great Verhaeren. Offers little in print that sprawling cities and we forget that this master of free verse was also a master of Alexandria and the rest of his life, a master of life affected by universal compassion He tried with all his forces to oppose the madness of 1914.
must see for any s exalt oneself
And stand higher than those who lived
From guilty desire and suffering vanquished
The harsh reality great and supreme
Distillery a pretty red liquor and tonic
For s 'tipsy head and s' in the heart burn.
O clear and pure wheat from where we hunt down the weeds
Flame net, chosen among a thousand torches
one legendary brilliance, but a false prestige! Tell
, marking its not in the true existence
In a difficult path to a remote host having
of another weapon in his forehead lucid pride!
Walking in his pride and his confidence,
Right to the obstacle, with the hope very stubborn
To mitigate, precise shots of will, intelligence
prompt or loose patience
And feeling grow grow and feel Be
, every day, stronger, superbly.
fervently love oneself in all other
Who 's to excite even the same battles
Towards a common future that we hear the pitch;
love their hearts and their brains similar to yours
Because they have suffered in the dark days and crazy, Even
anxiety, even torments and even grief you. And
s' drunk so much of the human battle
- Pale and floating reflection of monstrous assaults
Or groups of gold stars, up there-
What we saw in all that acting, fight or shudders
And that is eagerly accepted, open heart,
The bitter and terrible law that governs the universe.
Emile Verhaeren The Multiple splendor, 1906.
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