N 126 : Edvard Munch Poem

Posted on January 7, 2014 by

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N 126

by Edvard Munch

 

I would far rather be an outcast
upon the bosom of the great world
than to be an accomplice to
a moral nothingness,
rather a bloody spark that
no hand will shield
that glows wildly and is extinguished
and obliterated with no trace
than glow as a lamp
with a calm measured flame
evening after evening
in that eternal sitting-room
where the canary slumbers
in its blanket-covered cage
and time is slowly counted out
by the old sitting-room clock.
No the spark has the ability
to light the fire
and to know that it was responsible
for the sound of the fire siren
to know it was responsible
for the sea of flames
that broke with tradition
and turned the hourglass upside down.