Читать книгу The Glass Constellation - Arthur Sze - Страница 16

In the mind, an emotion dissolves into a hue;

there’s the violet haze when a teen drinks

a pint of paint thinner, the incarnadined

when, by accident, you draw a piece of

Xerox paper across your palm and slit

open your skin, the yellow when you hear

they have dug up a four-thousand-year-old

corpse in the Taklamakan Desert,

the scarlet when you struggle to decipher

a series of glyphs which appear to

represent sunlight dropping to earth

at equinoctial noon, there’s the azure

when the acupuncturist son of a rabbi

extols the virtues of lentils, the brown

when you hear a man iced in the Alps

for four thousand years carried dried

polypores on a string, the green when

ravens cry from the tops of swaying spruces.