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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358632" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The House Of Dust: Part 02: 10: Sudden Death</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Number four&mdash;the girl who died on the table&mdash;<br>The girl with golden hair&mdash;'<br>The purpling body lies on the polished marble.<br>We open the throat, and lay the thyroid bare . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One, who held the ether-cone, remembers<br>Her dark blue frightened eyes.<br>He heard the sharp breath quiver, and saw her breast<br>More hurriedly fall and rise.<br>Her hands made futile gestures, she turned her head<br>Fighting for breath; her cheeks were flushed to scarlet,&mdash;<br>And, suddenly, she lay dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the dreams that hurried along her veins<br>Came to the darkness of a sudden wall.<br>Confusion ran among them, they whirled and clamored,<br>They fell, they rose, they struck, they shouted,<br>Till at last a pallor of silence hushed them all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What was her name? Where had she walked that morning?<br>Through what dark forest came her feet?<br>Along what sunlit walls, what peopled street?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Backward he dreamed along a chain of days,<br>He saw her go her strange and secret ways,<br>Waking and sleeping, noon and night.<br>She sat by a mirror, braiding her golden hair.<br>She read a story by candlelight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her shadow ran before her along the street,<br>She walked with rhythmic feet,<br>Turned a corner, descended a stair.<br>She bought a paper, held it to scan the headlines,<br>Smiled for a moment at sea-gulls high in sunlight,<br>And drew deep breaths of air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Days passed, bright clouds of days. Nights passed. And music<br>Murmured within the walls of lighted windows.<br>She lifted her face to the light and danced.<br>The dancers wreathed and grouped in moving patterns,<br>Clustered, receded, streamed, advanced.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her dress was purple, her slippers were golden,<br>Her eyes were blue; and a purple orchid<br>Opened its golden heart on her breast . . .<br>She leaned to the surly languor of lazy music,<br>Leaned on her partner's arm to rest.<br>The violins were weaving a weft of silver,<br>The horns were weaving a lustrous brede of gold,<br>And time was caught in a glistening pattern,<br>Time, too elusive to hold . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shadows of leaves fell over her face,&mdash;and sunlight:<br>She turned her face away.<br>Nearer she moved to a crouching darkness<br>With every step and day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Death, who at first had thought of her only an instant,<br>At a great distance, across the night,<br>Smiled from a window upon her, and followed her slowly<br>From purple light to light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once, in her dreams, he spoke out clearly, crying,<br>'I am the murderer, death.<br>I am the lover who keeps his appointment<br>At the doors of breath!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She rose and stared at her own reflection,<br>Half dreading there to find<br>The dark-eyed ghost, waiting beside her,<br>Or reaching from behind<br>To lay pale hands upon her shoulders . . .<br>Or was this in her mind? . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She combed her hair. The sunlight glimmered<br>Along the tossing strands.<br>Was there a stillness in this hair,&mdash;<br>A quiet in these hands?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Death was a dream. It could not change these eyes,<br>Blow out their light, or turn this mouth to dust.<br>She combed her hair and sang. She would live forever.<br>Leaves flew past her window along a gust . . .<br>And graves were dug in the earth, and coffins passed,<br>And music ebbed with the ebbing hours.<br>And dreams went along her veins, and scattering clouds<br>Threw streaming shadows on walls and towers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Conrad+Potter+Aiken">Conrad Potter Aiken</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358632" data-title="The House Of Dust: Part 02: 10: Sudden Death de Conrad Potter Aiken" data-description="'Number four&mdash;the girl who died on the table&mdash;
The girl with golden hair&mdash;'
The purpling body lies on the polished marble.
We open the throat, and lay the thyroid bare . . .

One, who held the ether-cone, remembers
Her dark blue fri..."></div>
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