THE CONTOURS OF FIXATION
293
tion or at least a means of delaying the poetic flood, a recourse against
facility; that he should charge
his
words with more meaning than is
granted them by current speech and, by holding back the reader,
"by tiring him a little," should permit him to enjoy, in the midst of
this very fatigue, a reward that is not to be obtained without pains.
On this point there is much more to be said, and we shall return to
the subject
if
you choose. No more for today.
4
r.~~~ '
<j;l.;;f:..d."
.:'"~f(
.,•.'•. :.;_; .
;~
Translated by Malcolm Cowley
4. After this interview was published in
Figaro,
an obliging and sharp–
sighted correspondent informed me that the fine phrases I had lent to Marsilio
Ficino had been borrowed from Baldassare• Castiglione. The absence· of reference
books is not an excuse to be pleaded for another and more serious error: in this
same interview I have attributed to St. Paul words that were spoken by Christ
in the "Sacerdotal Prayer" (St. John XVII, 15), a mistake that covers me with
confusion.-A.G.
THE CONTOURS OF FIXATION
The stoned dogs crawl back through the blood,
Through the conquered weather, through the wet silk light,
To disenchanted masters who are not quite dead.
Like severed heads of a dead age
They gasp in the square, in the alleys of dusk.
Explanations are posted on the shattered walls.
The moon illuminates a cenotaph.
"All is insanity," the dogs conclude,
Yet the odor of blood has a certain appeal.
Their pain soaks eyes on every balcony.
"Forbear, refrain, be scrupulous"---<:logs' admonitions,
Sad and redundant, paraphernalia of goodbye,
Hang in the sulphured air like promises of girls.
Then silence. Down the street the lights go dead.
One waits. One wait<>. And then the guns sound on another hill.
WELDON KEES
