Monday, January 22, 2007

Works are Dead Rock

"Works" are dead rock, sprung from resounding chisel,
When the master is at work, chipping away at his living self.
Works announce the mind as pupas announce the butterfly:
"Look, it left me behind – lifeless – and fluttered away."
Works are like reeds, Midas' whispering reeds,
Spreading secrets long after having ceased to be true.

-Hugo Von Hofmannsthal

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