293

Portrait d'Ambroise Vollard, 1899

He sits easily in a three piece suit
Of brown flannel, of which the
Breast opens upon a white doublet
And a curt navy bowtie. His back
Is slightly fallen as he leans against
The banquette of dark leather. He
Crooks his right leg over his left
Knee, his hands held loosely in his
Lap. Beneath them, a number of
Slim volumes he seems unaware of.
His face is frank and tired, a brown
Beard rising to his thin cheeks, and
A stoic mustache. His nose as solid
As his brow. His forehead is high,
And catches green and blue where
The clean morning light passes the
Coloured advertisements of the café
Windows. His expression is passive :
He seems almost the image of a man
Listening to the lengthy recitation
Of an old grief, unmoved to choler
Or to sadness. He does not show his
Force. His kindness is his intelligence.

291

As the snow comes down it swims
In luminous particles beneath the
Halogen lights that line the street,
Like the action of motes when dusk
Lays a golden beam through glass.
At this hour, the street is empty of
All pedestrians : at long intervals,
Solitary cars make their slow way
Down its length, their low engines
Breaking the hush, leaving dark,
Parallel curvatures as they crawl
Penitently toward the residential
Garages. Their is a rumour on the
Air as of an idea being born, but
It is only the fall of what has now
Fallen down the catalogue of years.
Our solitary life : the precipitation
Of sparks out of the great anvil of
A barren night, the snow lighting
Upon us in its fiery shoals. We are
As children, looking upon grace.

288

La Orana Maria, 1891

The virgin stands in a loose dress
Of faded red patterned with large
Flowers from which hang stamens
Heavy with pollen. Her full arms
Support the body of her son, who
Rests on her shoulder and inclines
Over her black hair. His body is
A bloated green and seems in the
Process of putrefaction. The air
About their heads is traced by two
Dull halos. About them the bounty
Of the earth extends : at the fore,
Bananas and guava ripen in bowls,
Slight flowers hang in triads from
The filaments of sparse bushes,
And beyond them the trees spread
Great clouds of incense over dusty
And vacant wheat fields. Ragged
Lights unwind themselves across
The face of the far mountains. The
Day tires of its chaleur, sliding into
Dormancy. In the lady's shadow
Three figures abase themselves.
Two village women, dressed only
In pareus skirts of white with gold
Motifs, clasp their hands before
Their soft bodies as if in prayer.
At back, a woman, faint behind the
Veil of her black hair, dressed in
A formless pink robe. From the apt
Curvature of her spine a collosal
Structure rises, bipartite. Her wings.
At their height the coverts are a blue
Of childhood nights and billowing
Curtains. The long primaries seem
To light the gloom where they hang,
The yellow of decaying palm leaves.
She appears to withhold her force,
Anticipating some commandword.
A body may contain such power.