I faint, I fail. Now my body thaws; I am unsealed, I am incandescent. Now the stream pours in a deep tide fertilizing, opening the shut, forcing the tight-folded, flooding free. To whom shall I give all that now flows through me, from my warm, my porous body?
| Virginia Woolf, The Waves
…our night, the date palms, esparto grass,
and the old river
where lemon leaves on the water drift.
They are green like water
like your eyes, I say.
∆ Saadi Youssef, from ‘Night in Hamdan’, Without an Alphabet, Without a Face: Selected Poems (trans. Khaled Mattawa)
Yet it can happen, suddenly, unexpectedly, and most frequently in the half-light-of-glimpses, that we catch sight of another visible order which intersects with ours and has nothing to do with it.
∆ John Berger, from Opening a Gate