I was alone with a chair on a plain
Which lost itself in an empty horizon.
The plain was flawlessly paved.
Nothing, absolutely nothing but the chair and I
The sky was forever blue,
No sun gave life to it.
An inscrutable, insensible light
illuminated the infinite plain.
To me this eternal day seemed to be projected --
artificially-- from a different sphere.
I was never sleepy nor hungry nor thirsty,
never hot nor cold.
Time was only an abstruse ghost
since nothing happened or changed.
In me Time still lived a little
This, mainly, thanks to the chair.
Because of my occupation with it
I did not completely
lose my sense of the past.
Now and then I'd hitch myself, as if I were a horse, to the chair
and trot around with it,
sometimes in circles,
and sometimes straight ahead.
I assume that I succeeded.
Whether I really succeeded I do not know
Since there was nothing in space
By which I could have checked my movements.
As I sat on the chair I pondered sadly, but not desperately,
Why the core of the world exuded such black light.
Jean Arp's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Plain by Jean Arp )
- आथिखाल, Ronjoy Brahma
- Life is Nothing but Texture~, Mr. Nobody Nothing
- How Is Your Life In The Matrix?, Mr. Nobody Nothing
- That bench is my dear., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Loneliness, Ashwini Annigeri
- समनि नायथाय- 25, Ronjoy Brahma
- I am not uttering, gajanan mishra
- Holy and pure, hasmukh amathalal
- For All The Love In Me, Sasha Claire Beckains
- Sick of Seeing So Much Violence on the S.., Hebert Logerie
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