Bron­ze by gold heard the hoo­fi­rons, stee­ly­rin­ging.
Imperth­nthn thnth­nthn.
Chips, picking chips off rocky thumb­nail, chips.
Hor­rid! And gold flus­hed more.
A hus­ky fifen­ote blew.
Blew. Blue bloom is on the.
Gold­pin­na­cled hair.
A jum­ping rose on sati­ny breast of satin, rose of Casti­le.
Tril­ling, tril­ling: Ido­lo­res.
Peep! Who’s in the… pee­pof­gold?
Tink cried to bron­ze in pity.
And a call, pure, long and throb­bing. Long­in­dy­ing call.
Decoy. Soft word. But look: the bright stars fade. Notes chir­ru­ping ans­wer.
O rose! Casti­le. The morn is brea­king.
Jing­le jing­le jaun­ted jing­ling.
Coin rang. Clock cla­cked.
Avo­wal. Son­nez. I could. Rebound of gar­ter. Not lea­ve thee. Smack. La clo­che! Thigh smack. Avo­wal. Warm. Swee­the­art, good­bye!
Jing­le. Bloo.
Boo­med cras­hing chords. When love absorbs. War! War! The tym­pa­num.
A sail! A veil awa­ve upon the waves.
Lost. Throst­le flu­ted. All is lost now.
Horn. Haw­horn.
When first he saw. Alas!
Full tup. Full throb.
Warbling. Ah, lure! Allu­ring.
Mar­tha! Come!
Clap­clap. Clip­clap. Clap­py­clap.
Good­god henev erhe­ard inall.
Deaf bald Pat brought pad kni­fe took up.
A moon­lit night­call: far, far.
I feel so sad. P. S. So lonely bloo­ming.
The spik­ed and win­ding cold seahorn. Have you the? Each, and for other, plash and silent roar.
Pearls: when she. Liszt’s rhap­so­dies. Hiss­ss.
You don’t?
Did not: no, no: belie­ve: Lid­lyd. With a cock with a car­ra.
Black. Deep­sound­ing. Do, Ben, do.
Wait while you wait. Hee hee. Wait while you hee.
But wait!
Low in dark midd­le earth. Embedded ore.
Nami­neda­mi­ne. Pre­a­cher is he:
All gone. All fal­len.
Tiny, her tremu­lous fern­foils of mai­den­hair.
Amen! He gnas­hed in fury.
Fro. To, fro. A baton cool pro­tru­ding.
Bron­ze­ly­dia by Mina­gold.
By bron­ze, by gold, in oce­an­green of shadow. Bloom. Old Bloom.
One rap­ped, one tap­ped, with a car­ra, with a cock.
Pray for him! Pray, good peo­p­le!
His gou­ty fin­gers nak­ke­ring.
Big Bena­ben. Big Ben­ben.
Last rose Casti­le of sum­mer left bloom I feel so sad alo­ne.
Pwee! Litt­le wind piped wee.
True men. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Ay, ay. Like you men. Will lift your tschink with tschunk.
Fff! Oo!
Whe­re bron­ze from ane­ar? Whe­re gold from afar? Whe­re hoofs?
Rrr­pr. Kraa. Kra­andl.
Then not till then. My epp­ripfftaph. Be pfrwritt.
James Joy­ce, Ulys­ses (Beginn Kapi­tel 11)

Ulysses (Cover)