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I checked out a book not too long ago from our library called “One Hundred and One Poems,” by Paul Verlaine.  The French language version on the left, the English language version on the right. (That doesn’t show up in this particular shot!) Delightful.

But before I got to soak in the beautiful moments of overlapping language expressions, I noticed a card sticking out from atop the pages.  As I withdrew it, and my eyes settled on the darkly typed print, it became clear that it was a withdrawn card catalog card.  I had stumbled upon a treasure! What joy!!

This particular card, in its heyday, was probably a little less yellow. The familiarity of its warm cardboard and informational nature brings back memories of my days at college, when I had to walk over hill and dale, in my little white Keds sneakers, for about 15 minutes to get to the other side of campus to the James A. Michener library at UNC in Greeley, CO to do our research papers.

So, Paul Verlaine, French poet, meet George Antheil, American composer. Fancy you should meet, encased between the pages of a book.


Paul Verlaine


George Antheil



And now for the poem that touches both of these lives, since they did meet “among the trees,” or on top of the paper from whence it came.



Among the trees

The moon gleams white,

Hushed repartees

Rustle tonight

From leaf and vine…

O mistress mine.

The inlet sleeps,

Deep in reflection:

Dark willow weeps

The wind’s dejection.

Or so it seems…

The hour for dreams.

The heavens, star-lit,

Seem to bestow

Calm infinite

On earth below

From realms above…

The hour for love.

– Verlaine


Photos courtesy of Google images