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Notes03/11/2021
MonsieurTest
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MonsieurTest
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28
Green tart unisex fig: a refreshment poem
Fig tree, for how long has it been significant to me
how you almost completely overturn the blossom
and into the early determined fruit,
your pure secret.
With pale pink pepper thy bent branch
downward the sap and upward: mandarin leaps from sleep,
almost not waking, into the bliss of his soft sweet performance.
See how the god in the swan_
But we linger,
Sage boasts it to bloom, and into the muscatel interior
of our finite fruit we enter betrayed.
Few so gently rises the rush of the iris,
that it scarcely blows up, burns out in the fullness of the heart,
when the temptation to blossom, like the night air touches their nasal hairs, and then the olfactory brain:
Musk, perhaps, and the early passing,
whose nostrils are otherwise bent by gardening death.
These tumble along: to their own sniffling
they are ahead, like the patchouli in the mild
mellow muffle of the base of this gentle Ferrari.
....
I like this rather green-herb fig leafy than sweet fruity unisex Ferrari, which comes along very mild and quiet, consequently not at all droning, as a spring and summer freshener quite well. Durability and sillage are moderate, as it should be for an elegy fragrance.
Edda has begged my avater gen Rilke; gold has spurred me to (re) poetry.
Greetings! And Rilke, in whose Sixth Duino Elegy I must have lost my way a little.
how you almost completely overturn the blossom
and into the early determined fruit,
your pure secret.
With pale pink pepper thy bent branch
downward the sap and upward: mandarin leaps from sleep,
almost not waking, into the bliss of his soft sweet performance.
See how the god in the swan_
But we linger,
Sage boasts it to bloom, and into the muscatel interior
of our finite fruit we enter betrayed.
Few so gently rises the rush of the iris,
that it scarcely blows up, burns out in the fullness of the heart,
when the temptation to blossom, like the night air touches their nasal hairs, and then the olfactory brain:
Musk, perhaps, and the early passing,
whose nostrils are otherwise bent by gardening death.
These tumble along: to their own sniffling
they are ahead, like the patchouli in the mild
mellow muffle of the base of this gentle Ferrari.
....
I like this rather green-herb fig leafy than sweet fruity unisex Ferrari, which comes along very mild and quiet, consequently not at all droning, as a spring and summer freshener quite well. Durability and sillage are moderate, as it should be for an elegy fragrance.
Edda has begged my avater gen Rilke; gold has spurred me to (re) poetry.
Greetings! And Rilke, in whose Sixth Duino Elegy I must have lost my way a little.
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