Surrealist texts by surrealist women: Mary Low (2)

The companion

Albrecht Dürer, The large Turf, (1503)

You are my companion.

I know the ripe fruit of your rashness,
your turbulent cascades
and the hazel waters of joy.

I know the strength of your bastions,
and those walls where a breach can be made.
You have twelve Achilles'hells and a triple-edged sword.

You taste green  like the freshness of the morning,
or hot and acrid
like aloes in the sun.
You smell like moist moss,
young fur among the pines
or a newly honed sickle dipped in hay.

You walk like haughty Indians
and you speak like harps.
You think along an arrow-line
or down voiceless wells.
You are deep with tangible tenderness,
but hard as malachite.
Your words and your thoughts
shine like polished shields.

You are my companion.

Mary Low, in Penelope Rosemont, op.cit. p.409

Albrecht Dürer, Pine, Collection of the Britsh Museum

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