gri_2003_m_46_b03_f07_015
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.061
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.037
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65843942 - Preacher357
- WINNER - 65952978 - scisawiz
- 65959889 - Berhel
- 66003327 - mikethebike2
- 66018529 - Amber2
- 66350174 - wildcat2704
65843942 - Preacher357
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of asleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
The patron of astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, a gold broach at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritan cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms, and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The tilted dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where aer you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wiat
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed:
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annuntiation to the ear
Listening in a woman's groin,
Enemy only of heiratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with locks of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the fauve gallery of mattresses.
WINNER - 65952978 - scisawiz
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of asleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
The patron of astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, a gold broach at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritan cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms, and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The tilted dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where are you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wait
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed;
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annunciation to the ear
Listening in a woman's groin,
Enemy only of heiratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with locks of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the fauve gallery of mattresses.
65959889 - Berhel
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of asleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
The patron f astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, a gold broach at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritan cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms, and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The tilted dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where are you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wait
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed:
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annunciation to the ear
Listening in a woman's groin,
Enemy only of hieratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with looks of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the fauve gallery of mattresses.
66003327 - mikethebike2
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of sleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
the patron of astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, gold broach at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritan cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms, and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The tilted dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where are you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wait
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed:
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annunciation to the ear
Listening in a woman groin,
Enemy only of hieratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with locks of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the fauve gallery of mattresses.
66018529 - Amber2
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of asleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
The patron of astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, a gold brooch at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritan cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The titled dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where are you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wait
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed:
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annunciation to the ear
Listening in a woman's groin,
Enemy only of hieratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with locks of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the fauve gallery of mattresses.
66350174 - wildcat2704
The Temptation of a SaintPoetry is autonomous and allegorical,
The clown of asleep in the bed of awake,
The hermit saint among the gregarious flowers,
The patron of astonishment and order.
Progressive Apollo: the atonal dawn
Whips the emperor of reaction
In secret listening caves and his cries
Are part of the orchestral moment.
Dawn is the sun god's erection,
Tearing the membrane of the miss of night:
Later, a gold broach at the throat of day
Holding the blue shawl tight across her breasts.
So many landscapes are accessible
Beyond the puritanical cave of the skull:
What bridges, labyrinths, farms, and capes,
What forests, walls, and waterfalls.
In the hotel of water outside the cave
The tilted dancers glow, as in arcades;
The rippling glass shutters of the tide
Fumble the swimmer's groin: Hermaphrodite.
Where are you from, Atlantis?
When do you return, when I am a hundred?
Who do you think you are or do you wait
For me to name you, swimmer with my own face?
Jargon of marine, protect the Syrens,
Tangible as wedding-cakes of seaweed:
Blue monumental listener, blue on the shore,
Replace the conches in their innocent disorder.
The sensual retorts dripping love philtres
Are my annunciation to the ear
Listening in a woman's groin,
Enemy only of hieratic silence.
Cushions filled with princesses' hair
(As lovers are filled with looks
of blood)
Support the fall of lovers and their drums
In the future gallery of mattresses.