<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360076" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Artificer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,<br>machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk<br>canvases, and he stops under the sky</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and raises toward it his joined clenched fists.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Believers fall on their bellies, they suppose it is a monstrance that<br> shines,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but those are knuckles, sharp knuckles shine that way, my friends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He cuts the glowing, yellow buildings in two, breaks the walls into<br> motley halves;<br>pensive, he looks at the honey seeping from those huge honeycombs:<br>throbs of pianos, children's cries, the thud of a head banging against<br> the floor.<br>This is the only landscape able to make him feel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He wonders at his brother's skull shaped like an egg,<br>every day he shoves back his black hair from his brow,<br>then one day he plants a big load of dynamite<br>and is surprised that afterward everything spouts up in the explosion.<br>Agape, he observes the clouds and what is hanging in them:<br>globes, penal codes, dead cats floating on their backs, locomotives.<br>They turn in the skeins of white clouds like trash in a puddle.<br>While below on the earth a banner, the color of a romantic rose,<br> flutters,<br>and a long row of military trains crawls on the weed-covered tracks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Czeslaw+Milosz">Czeslaw Milosz</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=360076" data-title="Artificer de Czeslaw Milosz" data-description="Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets, machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk canvases, and he stops under the sky and raises toward it his joined clenched fists. Believers fall on their bell..."></div> </div> </div>

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