The art of Valère Bernard
Prints by Edvard Munch
Jealousy, 1896, lithograph
Vampire II, 1895, lithograph
The Kiss IV, 1897-1902, woodcut
The Three Stages of Woman, 1899, lithograph
By the Deathbed, 1896, lithograph
The Urn, 1896, lithograph
— Catherine Breillat (via mudwerks)
O bitter is the knowledge that one draws from the voyage!
The monotonous and tiny world, today
Yesterday, tomorrow, always, shows us our reflections,
An oasis of horror in a desert of boredom!
Must we depart? If you can do so, remain;
Depart, if you must. Someone runs, another crouches,
To deceive that vigilant and fatal enemy,
Time! Ah, there are some runners who know no respite,
Like the wandering Jew or like the apostles,
Whom nothing aids, no cart, nor ship,
To flee this ugly gladiator; there are others
Who even in their cradles know how to kill it.
When at last he shall place his foot upon our spine,
We will be capable of hope, crying: ‘Forward!’
As in old times we left for China,
Eyes fixed in the distance, hair in the winds,
We shall embark on that sea of Darkness
With the happy heart of a young traveller.
Do you hear these voices, alluring and funereal,
Singing: ‘This way, those of you who long to eat
The perfumed lotus-leaf! it is here that are gathered
Those miraculous fruits for which your heart hungers;
Do come and get drunk on the strange sweetness
Of this afternoon without end!’
By those familiar accents we discover the phantom
Over there our personal Pylades stretch out their arms to us.
‘Swim to your Electra to revive your hearts!’
Says she whose knees we one time kissed.
O Death, my captain, it is time! let us raise the anchor!
This country wearies us, O Death! Let us make ready!
If sea and sky are both as black as ink,
You know our hearts are full of sunshine.
Pour on us your poison to refresh us!
Oh, this fire so burns our brains, we would
Dive to the depths of the gulf, Heaven or Hell, what matter?
If only to find in the depths of the Unknown the New!
— Baudelaire, the Journey