Уоллес Генри Турман (Wallace Henry Thurman) Текст оригинала на английском языке Fire!! FIRE . . . flaming, burning, searing, and penetrating far beneath the superficial items of the flesh to boil the sluggish blood. FIRE . . . a cry of conquest in the night, warning those who sleep and revitalizing those who linger in the quiet places dozing. FIRE . . . melting steel and iron bars, poking livid tongues between stone apertures and burning wooden opposition with a cackling chuckle of contempt. FIRE . . . weaving vivid, hot designs upon an ebon bordered loom and satisfying pagan thirst for beauty unadorned . . . the flesh is sweet and real . . . the soul an inward flush of fire. . . . Beauty? . . . flesh on fire – on fire in the furnace of life blazing. . . . “Fy-ah, Fy-ah, Lawd, Fy-ah gonna burn ma soul!” |
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