Thou still unvanquished pride of quietude.
Quoting Carrol Cox <[log in to unmask]>:
> Emily Merriman wrote:
> > The poem strikes me as being supremely about movement, in
> > its capturing of a vision of stillness, the eye of the storm. The rain
> > has ceased falling, and the petals will soon fall; the faces of the
> > commuters will move on in a moment.
> "Light fighting for speed" (someplace in the Cantos, I forget where),
> and "in the stillness outlasting all wars" (Canto 74). Always, even up
> to the final "Drafts & Fragments," this suppressed energy in the moment
> of stilness:
> Falling spiders and scorpions,
> Give light against falling poison,
> A wind of darkness hurls against forest
> the candle flickers
> is faint
> Lux enim--
> versus this tempest.
> The marble form in the pine wood,
> The shrine seen and not seen
> From the roots of sequoias
> That "seen and not seen" is echoed somewhere in the earlier Cantos, but
> I can't quite place it.
> Or at the end of CAnto 74:
> Serenely in the crystal jet
> as the bright ball that the fountain tosses
> (Verlaine) as diamond clearness
> How soft the wind under Taishan
> where the sea is remembered
> out of hell, the pit
> out of the dust and glare evil
> Zephyrus / Apeliota
> This liquid is certainly a
> property of the mind
> nec accidents est but an element
> in the mind's make-up
> est agens and functions dust to a funtain pan otherwise
> Hast 'ou seen the rose in the steel dust
> (or swansdown ever?)
> so light is the urging, so ordered the dark petals of iron
> we who have passed over Lethe.
> What could be either more static _or_ more energetic than the roots of
> sequoias. From Canto 87:
> in pochi
> causa motuum,
> pine seed splitting cliff's edge.
> Only sequoias are slow enough.
> BinBin "is beauty".
> "Slowness is beauty."