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on cleansing Europe of politics

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  • louise
    ANDROMEDA Now over the Mediterranean shore, fronting the sun, In the great woods where only the peasant comes And brings his bottle of wine, and figs, and
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 6, 2005
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      ANDROMEDA

      Now over the Mediterranean shore, fronting the sun,
      In the great woods where only the peasant comes
      And brings his bottle of wine, and figs, and goat-milk cheese --
      The Gods yet dwell, but are not seen of men.

      Steeply the ground slopes from the chestnut woods above,
      Through tangles of pine and arbutus, myrtle and rosemary,
      Down to the sea.
      The tasselled evergreen oak grants densest shade -- the
      acacia showers its fragrance on the air;
      In open spots the rock-rose blooms,
      And the green lizard's little heart beats fast in the sun.

      Here all day long mindful of times gone by
      The sun yet lingers; from the slumbering sea
      (On whose clear sands the yellow and horn`ed poppy
      loves to stray)
      Sometimes fair Aphrodite lifts an arm
      Unseen of mortals.
      The Dryads in the aspen branches wave
      Their trembling fingers, and young Hyacinth
      Droops earthward once more wounded by his lover.

      But none resume their ancient human form.
      He, the great Liberator, with the wand of love so wonderful
      (Who dwelt on earth, and dwells not, but must dwell again),
      He comes not -- whom they wait.
      The rocks, the trees, the flowers, the loving animals,
      The sea, the heavenly winds,
      The human form that chained within them all
      Pleads for deliverance --
      He comes not whom they wait.

      Only the rain shrieks by with monkey faces staring out of the
      windows;
      Hotel and villa desecrate the land;
      Wealth trails its slime; the Greek has fled; and Civilisation
      like a dismal dragon guards its prey.



      Edward Carpenter, 'Towards Democracy', Part III [p268],
      George Allen & Co./S. Clarke Ltd., 1912.

      This is the age of English prophecy.
      In the year of the true revolutionary, 2005.

      scripsi
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