"Baudelaire: The Albatross
Sometimes for sport the men of loafing crews
Snare the great albatrosses of the deep,
The indolent companions of their cruise
As through the bitter vastitudes they sweep.
Scarce have they fished aboard these airy kings
When helpless on such unaccustomed floors,
They piteously droop their huge white wings
And trail them at their sides like drifting oars.
How comical, how ugly, and how meek
Appears this soarer of celestial snows!
One, with his pipe, teases the golden beak,
One, limping, mocks the cripple as he goes.
The Poet, like this monarch of the clouds,
Despising archers, rides the storm elate.
But, stranded on the earth to jeering crowds,
The great wings of the giant baulk his gait."
—Roy Campbell
As much of my essay on Ohaeng as i feel like writing right now.
"There’s a flagrancy to this evil that I’ve never really seen before in my life. History is, of course, full of such episodes. But in this case it is combined with a sort of puerility. That is something much more rare, possibly unique. Bernanos is probably the only writer I know who specialised in depicting merged evil and puerility. I never thought I would see it with my own eyes."
—@nikprassas
"Tonight, you cannot trust the stars..."
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