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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 13/821
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That
can
enjoy
Invisibility
.
Phantasmal
mirth
,
folded
away
:
muskperfumed
.
And
no
more
turn
aside
and
brood
.
Folded
away
in
the
memory
of
nature
with
her
toys
.
Memories
beset
his
brooding
brain
.
Her
glass
of
water
from
the
kitchen
tap
when
she
had
approached
the
sacrament
.
A
cored
apple
,
filled
with
brown
sugar
,
roasting
for
her
at
the
hob
on
a
dark
autumn
evening
.
Her
shapely
fingernails
reddened
by
the
blood
of
squashed
lice
from
the
children
’
s
shirts
.
In
a
dream
,
silently
,
she
had
come
to
him
,
her
wasted
body
within
its
loose
graveclothes
giving
off
an
odour
of
wax
and
rosewood
,
her
breath
,
bent
over
him
with
mute
secret
words
,
a
faint
odour
of
wetted
ashes
.
Her
glazing
eyes
,
staring
out
of
death
,
to
shake
and
bend
my
soul
.
On
me
alone
.
The
ghostcandle
to
light
her
agony
.
Ghostly
light
on
the
tortured
face
.
Her
hoarse
loud
breath
rattling
in
horror
,
while
all
prayed
on
their
knees
.
Her
eyes
on
me
to
strike
me
down
.
Liliata
rutilantium
te
confessorum
turma
circumdet
:
iubilantium
te
virginum
chorus
excipiat
.
Ghoul
!
Chewer
of
corpses
!
No
,
mother
!
Let
me
be
and
let
me
live
.
—
Kinch
ahoy
!
