A L D U S , A J O U R N A L O F T R A N S L AT I O N
Sensation of Winter on Earth
Above the great cemetery of the world’s dull brown, dilapidated rooftops, the melancholy pianos sing of the rain, sing of the rain, an ancient song of leaks... the autumn departed shedding YELLOW flowers and handfuls of tears! *** Like a colossal fungus, life’s useless dream looms over us, spilling sicknesses and water, mould, vine shoots or sorrowful hours. *** And the exhausted, inverted and concave days sound the same as empty coffins... (--Recall, my friends, recall, recall the full, vast, fiery red meridian suns, and smile, smile at the possibility of harvests emerging from the mists!). *** They hurt, the sun’s bones hurt, the poor thing has a cold and is suffering from rheumatism; from time to time he wipes his nose with a handkerchief, he sneezes and, flush with the infinite, a fabulous, fabulous, fabulous cocoon of thunder bursts open; lousy puddles entertain themselves by copying his sickly figure--so sickly!--and his GREY gaze freezes the horizon. *** 148