Jean-Luc Godard / Anne-Marie Miéville
- Sang Titre
2019
Far from the time, space, a man is lost,
Thin as a hair, ample as the morning,
The foaming nostrils, two eyes rolling
And his hands to feel the decor
- In fact nonexistent. But what, one might say,
The meaning of this metaphor :
” Thin as a hair, ample as the morning “
And why these nostrils above the three-dimensional?
If I talk about time is that it is not yet,
If I speak of a place is that it has disappeared,
If I speak of a man, he will soon be dead,
If I talk about time is that it is no longer,
If I speak of space, a god just destroy it,
If I speak of years is to destroy,
If I hear the silence, there is a god roar
And his repeated cries can not harm me.
Because these gods are demons; They crawl space
Thin as a hair, loose like the dawn,
Nostrils foaming, drooling on the face,
And hands and grabbed a setting
- In fact nonexistent. But what, one might say,
The meaning of this metaphor
” Thin as a hair, loose as the morning “
And why this face out of the three dimensions ?
If I speak of the gods is that they cover the sea
Their infinite weight, their flight is immortal,
If I speak of the gods is that they haunt the air,
If I speak of the gods is that they are perpetual,
If I speak of the gods is that they live underground,
Infusing into the ground alive their breath,
If I speak of the gods is that they convent iron,
Gather coal, distilling cinnabar.
Are they gods or demons? They fill the time,
Thin as a hair, loose like the dawn,
The broken enamel eyes, nostrils foaming,
And hands and grabbed a setting
- In fact nonexistent. But what, one might say,
The meaning of this metaphor
“Thin as a hair, loose like an aurora”
And why these two hands out of the three dimensions ?
Yes, they are demons. One down, another rises.
Every night the day, every mountain its valley,
Each day’s night, each tree’s shade,
At each be his No, every evil its good,
Yes, these are reflections, negative images,
Flapping like immobility,
Throwing them into nothingness many active
Component and a double truth.
But neither god nor demon man went astray,
Thin as a hair, ample as the morning,
The foaming nostrils, two eyes rolling
And his hands to feel decor
- In fact nonexistent. Is that it is misplaced;
It is not thin enough, it is not wide enough:
Too many muscles twisted, worn too much saliva.
When the dust settles will see the Temple
Form of ensuring its own eternity.
Raymond Queneau - “The Explanation of Metaphors” (1943)
shihlun reblogged
Jean-Luc Godard, Dans le noir du temps / In the Darkness of Time (2002)
Jean-Luc Godard, Dans le noir du temps, 2002.