Stephane Mallarmè – Sea Breeze
Wassily Kandinsky, The golden sail, 1903 The flesh is sad, alas! – and I’ve read all the books. Let’s go! Far off. Let’s go! I sense that the birds, intoxicated, fly deep into unknown spume and sky! Nothing – not even old gardens mirrored by eyes – can restrain this heart that drenches itself in …