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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 415/821
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Words
?
Music
?
No
:
it
’
s
what
’
s
behind
.
Bloom
looped
,
unlooped
,
noded
,
disnoded
.
Bloom
.
Flood
of
warm
jamjam
lickitup
secretness
flowed
to
flow
in
music
out
,
in
desire
,
dark
to
lick
flow
invading
.
Tipping
her
tepping
her
tapping
her
topping
her
.
Tup
.
Pores
to
dilate
dilating
.
Tup
.
The
joy
the
feel
the
warm
the
.
Tup
.
To
pour
o
’
er
sluices
pouring
gushes
.
Flood
,
gush
,
flow
,
joygush
,
tupthrob
.
Now
!
Language
of
love
.
—
.
.
.
ray
of
hope
is
.
.
.
Beaming
.
Lydia
for
Lidwell
squeak
scarcely
hear
so
ladylike
the
muse
unsqueaked
a
ray
of
hopk
.
Martha
it
is
.
Coincidence
.
Just
going
to
write
.
Lionel
’
s
song
.
Lovely
name
you
have
.
Can
’
t
write
.
Accept
my
little
pres
.
Play
on
her
heartstrings
pursestrings
too
.
She
’
s
a
.
I
called
you
naughty
boy
.
Still
the
name
:
Martha
.
How
strange
!
Today
.
The
voice
of
Lionel
returned
,
weaker
but
unwearied
.
It
sang
again
to
Richie
Poldy
Lydia
Lidwell
also
sang
to
Pat
open
mouth
ear
waiting
to
wait
.
How
first
he
saw
that
form
endearing
,
how
sorrow
seemed
to
part
,
how
look
,
form
,
word
charmed
him
Gould
Lidwell
,
won
Pat
Bloom
’
s
heart
.
Wish
I
could
see
his
face
,
though
.
Explain
better
.
Why
the
barber
in
Drago
’
s
always
looked
my
face
when
I
spoke
his
face
in
the
glass
.
Still
hear
it
better
here
than
in
the
bar
though
farther
.
—
Each
graceful
look
.
.
.
