Even electrons, supposedly the paragons of unpredictability, are tame and obsequious little creatures that rush around at the speed of light, going precisely where they are supposed to go. Nothing is random, nor will anything ever be, whether a long string of perfectly blue days that begin and end in golden dimness, the most seemingly chaotic political acts, the rise of a great city, the crystalline structure of a gem that has never seen the light, the distributions of fortune, what time the milkman gets up, the position of the electron, or the occurrence of one astonishing frigid winter after another. Behold how wonderful it is to live! Behold how wonderful to see. How wonderful it is to cover a surface that awaits me with my own victorious being! Wherever I’m spread, I see eyes shine, passions increase, eyebrows rise and heartbeats quicken. I’m not afraid of other colours, shadows, crowds or even of loneliness. I do not conceal myself: For me, delicacy manifests itself neither in weakness nor in subtlety, but through determination and will. I know men take notice of me and that I cannot be resisted. Part of me, the serious half, calls out to your vision while the mirthful half sours through the air with your glances. Because I’ve listened to souls whispering – like the susurrus of the wind – from book to book and object to object for tens or thousands of years, allow me to say that my touch resembles the touch of angels. I hear the question upon your lips: What is it to be a colour?Ĭolour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness.

The moon lives in the lining of your skin. It is not only light that falls over the world spreading inside your body Swelling like baking bread to signal silvered hills Where your twin symmetrical tree burns again and rises Loses itself and blends into the compact halves of an appleĬontinues separating your beauty down into two columns of The line your shoulders have divided into pale regions So that it might leap out and trace your outline Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, That the wind came out of the cloud by night,īut our love it was stronger by far than the loveįor the moon never beams without bringing me dreamsĪnd the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyesĪnd so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven That a maiden there lived whom you may knowĪnd this maiden she lived with no other thoughtīut we loved with a love that was more than love.

The wind rises flowstate