By Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Steven Mitchell
As on all its sides a kitchen-match darts white
flickering tongues before it bursts into flame:
with the audience around her, quickened, hot,
her dance begins to flicker in the dark room.
And all at once it is completely fire.
One upward glance and she ignites her hair
and, whirling faster and faster, fans her dress
into passionate flames, till it becomes a furnace
from which, like startled rattlesnakes, the long
naked arms uncoil, aroused and clicking.
And then: as if the fire were too tight
around her body, she takes and flings it out
haughtily, with an imperious gesture,
and watches: it lies raging on the floor,
still blazing up, and the flames refuse to die --
Till, moving with total confidence and a sweet
exultant smile, she looks up finally
and stamps it out with powerful small feet.
A poem to go with the tarantella from yesterday. I wonder if the imagery of this one is as vivid in its original language -- usually something is lost in translation but this is a wonderfully vivid picture.
I have new shoes, thanks to gblvr who told me where they were on sale, and Bath & Body Works let me use a two-day-expired coupon and get a free beach bag with all the stuff I bought at the semiannual sale (chocolate fondue eau de toilette at half price and holiday vanilla fragrance for $2.50, yay, though they had no toasted hazelnut stuff left, waah), so I had a good day and I smell good besides. *g* The cat seems to be better although she has eaten almost nothing in two days -- not that Rosie is at all at risk of wasting away -- she spent all afternoon sleeping in the sun, moving from behind the couch to the front to follow the light, while younger son got involved in a neighborhood watergun fight from which he came home completely drenched and older son stayed late at school for the last math review session before the final.
I am very sad about Anne Bancroft being gone -- she was one of my first celebrity crushes (Annie Sullivan, not Mrs. Robinson whom I did not see until much later), and I thought she deserved another Oscar for Agnes of God. I'll have to watch G.I. Jane again, too, because in addition to Viggo I really like her and Demi in that film. But certain fans have made me embarrassed to call myself a fan of anyone this week, so I shall hold off eulogizing someone I don't know, though we both did eat in the Russian Tea Room in New York at the same time, the only time I was ever there (with my grandmother, who was thrilled beyond words to be there; Walter Cronkite was there too, at the front table). Anyway, _inbetween_ has pointed out that Russell probably only threw that phone to get a contract with Nokia Worldwide advertising mobiles -- "Get a Nokia. So you don't have to get arrested." I should have figured that he picked on De Niro and Clooney about their advertising contracts because he was jealous. *ggg*
We put on HBO's Making of 'Batman' special at 8:15 (it was quite enjoyable -- lots of Bale, not a lot of the extremely overexposed Holmes, and enough Neeson, Oldman and Watanabe to make me happy), and when HP:POA came on afterward, none of us bothered to change the channel, so we sat and watched pretty much the entire movie together before sending the kids to bed. Man, I forgot how much I love that film on its own merits; I have never understood why with so many movies, I have a catalogue of changes from a book I read first that I find unforgivable, whereas with POA, even though I can write a list of things I wish had been included from the book, the fact that they're not there does not in any way diminish the experience of the film for me. And, you know, sometimes I forget how much I love David Thewlis as Lupin.
Hmm, I am not doing a good job shutting up about fannish stuff. Oh, and a few days ago lastrega jokingly called me a BNF, and I told her that my first order of business as such -- besides recruiting minions of my own, if my mistress will allow it -- would be to kick off a "Sharpe and Tavington Should Be Naked Together" ficathon. Although I do not actually have a single bunny concerning how to make this happen, I feel quite sure that there must be someone out there who will -- c'mon, Sean Bean and Jason Isaacs in uniform, being as rough as they want. *g* (She also wants me to write Sharpe/Duncan, which ought to be possible, but I have to find out the treatment of Scots in the British army at the time...)
I went ahead and got the permanent account -- not for the icons, just for the never having to think about it again. I am taking the leap of faith that LiveJournal will still be here in five years. Hey, I paid for my domain name for five years and wondered if I was nuts at the time, and I've passed the anniversary of that. So I have 100 icons for now, which I really don't need -- 50 was always plenty -- but if anyone has any icon recommendations at the moment let me know, since I have space. *g*
Jesters, angels and flowers circle the rounding board. There are more than a thousand lights as well as mirrors that make the images appear to multiply.