27.3.12

The Lamb


" White. White as the foam when the moon is full on the sea; white as the white of a child’s eye; or the brow of a dead man; white as a sheeted ghost: oh, white as wool. Bright wool…wool…in a million curls…seraphic in its purity and softness…the raiment of the Lamb. 


 [...]
The breast of the Lamb was like a little sea—a little sea of curls—of clustering curls or like the soft white crests of moonlight verdure; verdure white as death, frozen to the eye, but voluptuously soft to the touch—and lethal also, for to plunge the hand into that breast would be to find there was no substance there, but only the curls of the Lamb—no ribs, no organs; only the yielding, horrible mollience of endless wool. "


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2 comments:

Leo said...

excelente

Sebastián Cabrol said...

sencillamente impresionante.