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16. Juni

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)

Veröffentlicht in literatur musik


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