Auguries of Innocence

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

-William Blake-

Acquainted With The Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Robert Frost

Novembre Toute L'Année

Une vie en demi pente
La lumière absente
Un pavillon de brique de lierre
Quelque part sur terre

Une vie en demi teinte
La lumière absinthe
C'est toujours le même film qui passe
Quelque part sur place


Novembre toute l'année
Toute l'année c'est novembre
Le ciel blanc
Le ciel est blanc cassé

La pluie à contre jour
Le temps des retour
Des grands départ dans l'autre sens
Quelque part je pense

Novembre toute l'année
Toute l'année c'est novembre
Le ciel est blanc
Le ciel est blanc cassé

-Benjamin Biolay-

The Libertine

Allow me to be frank at the commencement.
You will not like me.
The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled.
You will not like me now
and you will like me a good deal less
as we go on.
Ladies, an announcement:
I am up for it, all the time.
That is not a boast or an opinion,
it is bone hard medical fact.
I put it round you know.
And you will watch me putting it round and sigh for it. Don't.
It is a deal of trouble for you and you are better off watching and drawing your conclusions from a distance than you would be if I got my tarse up your petticoats.
Gentlemen.
Do not despair, I am up for that as well.
And the same warning applies.
Still your cheesy erections till I have had my say.
But later when you shag - and later you will shag, I shall expect it of you and I will know if you have let me down - I wish you to shag with my homuncular image rattling in your gonads.
Feel how it was for me, how it is for me and ponder.
'Was that shudder the same shudder he sensed?
Did he know something more profound?
Or is there some wall of wretchedness that we all batter with our heads at that shining, livelong moment.
That is it.
That is my prologue, nothing in rhyme, no protestations of modesty,
you were not expecting that I hope.
I am John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester...
...and I do not want you to like me.