30minutefics
Oct. 19th, 2004 03:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nocturnus33I had a hellish time trying to put this right in LJ, at the end I never knew how I get it right, but it works.
Title: Remember body.
This was grammar beta by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knightofswords Thanks!
Author’s note: The poem is from Kavafis, I twist it sense. Sorry Master.
With a hoarse voice, rasp, almost hollow Lucius Malfoy keeps fighting dementors with a so long-ago learned muggle verse.
Body, remember not only how much you were loved,
not only the beds on which you lay,
The smell of urine and decadence were the worst.
The damp walls of Azkaban held no hope.
Remnants of men, almost naked of any humanity, stared into no horizon with vacant eyes.
Dirt blond hair, ashen skin.
Dry lips. Rhythmic, in a ritual lexis.
A bed. The feeling of clean sheets under skin. The softness of a mattress for his tired bones.
The pleasure of allowing himself into numbness.
but also those desires which for you
plainly glowed in the eyes,
and trembled in the voice -- and some
chance obstacle made them futile.
Words like a mantra keep going over and over again: There were no good memories, he now sees the emptiness of his acts. Dementors can’t take them away, there was no fulfillment in his acts, just a continued searching of some sense. They were fragments of something better, a completion he never touched.
Tiny. Simple. His desires hurt now.
He longs for the touch of a caring hand. Dementors allow him to remember Nandy, the house elf's soft and loving eyes. They let him because it pains him. It was so near and yet he failed to see it. Love.
Now that all belongs to the past,
it is almost as if you had yielded
to those desires too -- remember,
Narcissa. The young witch now dead.
Forgive me
She had devoted herself to him, and he had taken it as if it were natural.
More, More. He was always craving for more. His senses always open to ambers and corals, exotic perfumes, new tastes, unknown pleasures.
Hollowness.
Away,
away,
away, running from himself.
Always departing.
Never deep enough.
Just fragments of joy.
how they glowed, in the eyes looking at you;
how they trembled in the voice, for you, remember, body
Now he saw it. The wounds open, there was nothing left for the dementors.
Title: Remember body.
This was grammar beta by
knightofswords Thanks!Author’s note: The poem is from Kavafis, I twist it sense. Sorry Master.
With a hoarse voice, rasp, almost hollow Lucius Malfoy keeps fighting dementors with a so long-ago learned muggle verse.
Body, remember not only how much you were loved,
not only the beds on which you lay,
The smell of urine and decadence were the worst.
The damp walls of Azkaban held no hope.
Remnants of men, almost naked of any humanity, stared into no horizon with vacant eyes.
Dirt blond hair, ashen skin.
Dry lips. Rhythmic, in a ritual lexis.
A bed. The feeling of clean sheets under skin. The softness of a mattress for his tired bones.
The pleasure of allowing himself into numbness.
but also those desires which for you
plainly glowed in the eyes,
and trembled in the voice -- and some
chance obstacle made them futile.
Words like a mantra keep going over and over again: There were no good memories, he now sees the emptiness of his acts. Dementors can’t take them away, there was no fulfillment in his acts, just a continued searching of some sense. They were fragments of something better, a completion he never touched.
Tiny. Simple. His desires hurt now.
He longs for the touch of a caring hand. Dementors allow him to remember Nandy, the house elf's soft and loving eyes. They let him because it pains him. It was so near and yet he failed to see it. Love.
Now that all belongs to the past,
it is almost as if you had yielded
to those desires too -- remember,
Narcissa. The young witch now dead.
Forgive me
She had devoted herself to him, and he had taken it as if it were natural.
More, More. He was always craving for more. His senses always open to ambers and corals, exotic perfumes, new tastes, unknown pleasures.
Hollowness.
Away,
away,
away, running from himself.
Always departing.
Never deep enough.
Just fragments of joy.
how they glowed, in the eyes looking at you;
how they trembled in the voice, for you, remember, body
Now he saw it. The wounds open, there was nothing left for the dementors.
