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Edward Burn-Jones, An Angel Playing the Flageolet, 1878

A world full of poets —

Fisher of Men —

What a wish!

Like the vast ocean full of fish

The net of the Saviour fills

As it filters out prosaic being,

Separating salty water from living fish

Wishing, fishing stars

And whispers of abandoned desires

Drying up like empty showers

While the wish upon the star

And its many sisters in the net

Flower into all tomorrows’ blossoms.

The sage knows his bounds,

The chains of knowledge

But the poet knows infinity

He knows!

The fisher’s most splendid vision

Etched in stone and coined in verse

Pales like a giant diamond in the sun —

the darkest shade of angels —

His best verse’s

highest breath, a star —

the brightest shadow —

of His design on earth.

The Fisher King promised a catch!

Verses of poetry

Dimmest manifestations

Of the heart’s earth,

A harvest for beggars.

Blessed are the poor

For the richest on earth

Are too poor

For the harvest of the Fisher King.

A candle

For a Net full of poets,

For poets are fisher of men

Their advent, a wish

On the stars formed by the shadows

Of their thorn-bled

Wreath of stars,

Remnants of their breaths.

Georges de la Tour, Maria Magdalena with a Mirror, 1593

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