west-bridge

November 12, 2024

Behind it was that vast suspension bridge which always troubles me because it reminds me that in this mechanized age I am as little able to understand my environment as any primitive woman who thinks that a waterfall is inhabited by a spirit, and indeed less so, for her opinion might from a poetical point of view be correct.

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Thought:

“O my mountain hyacinth

What shepherds trod upon you

With clumsy, rustic foot?

Now you are a broken seal:

A scarlet stain upon the earth.”

Sappho | Fragment 105(c), tr. Anita George

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