I was there with my camera to record conflicting passions. I was there, the chronicler, the diarist. I recorded it all. And I don’t know – am I singing or am I crying?
I was there with my camera to record conflicting passions. I was there, the chronicler, the diarist. I recorded it all. And I don’t know – am I singing or am I crying?
“‘If naught I give, naught do I take return.
“Ronsard me celebroit!” behold I give
The age-old, age-old fare to fairer fair
And I fare forth into more bitter air;
Though mocked I go, yet shall her beauty live
Till rimes unrime and Truth shall truth unlearn.’”
Ezra Pound | Sonnet in Tenzone