instant note brother
nothing rises nothing descends
no horizontal movement
he arises
nothing stirs neither being nor non —
being nor the idea nor the prisoner
chained nor the tramway
he hears nothing other than himself
understands nothing other than the
chairs the stone the cold the water . . .
knows to pass through solid
matter
having no more need of eyes he
throws them away in the street
last burst of blood in the
dusk
last flourish
he tears out his tongue — flame
transfixed by a star
quieted
autumn dead like a leaf
of red palm
and reabsorbs that which he denied
and dissolves the project in the other
hemisphere second season of
existence
as the nails and the hairs
cross and return
/
TRISTAN TZARA
Translated from the French by Will Bray