Miklós Radnóti — The Vale of Soul-Making

But don’t leave me, delicate mind!      

Don’t let me go crazy.

Sweet wounded reason, don’t      

leave me now.   

Don’t leave me. Let me die, without fear,      

a clean lovely death, like Empedocles, who smiled as he fell      

into the crater.”

— Miklós Radnóti, “Maybe …,” Clouded Sky. ( Sheep Meadow; Revised edition August 1, 2003)

Miklós Radnóti — The Vale of Soul-Making

Anna Kamieńska — The Vale of Soul-Making

Writing down your thoughts is both necessary and harmful. It leads to eccentricity, narcissism, preserves what should be let go. On the other hand, these notes intensify the inner life, which, left unexpressed, slips through your fingers. If only I could find a better kind of journal, humbler, one that would preserve the same thoughts, the same flesh of life, which is worth saving.

— Anna Kamieńska, from “In That Great River: A Notebook,” Poetry. Originally Published: June 1, 2010

via Anna Kamieńska — The Vale of Soul-Making

Words Are the Boards Thrown over the Abyss (a text of Paul Valéry translated by Vadim Bystritski) — Before and After Francis Ponge

Words are like boards when projected over some abyss spanned by human intellect. We are allowed a swift passage but not a deliberate stop. A quick one passes safely, but the moment we linger, the time-sensitive tissue rips and everything collapses to meet a bottomless chasm. Les mots sont des planches jetées sur un abîme […]

via Words Are the Boards Thrown over the Abyss (a text of Paul Valéry translaed by Vadim Bystritski) — Before and After Francis Ponge