The Blank Page Gives Us The Right

The Dream Remains Overloaded With The Badly Lived Passions Of Daytime Life. Solitude In The Nocturnal Dream Is Always A Hostility. It Is Strange. It Isn't Really Our Solitude.

In Order To Dream So Far, Is It Enough To Read? Isn't It Necessary To Write? Write As In Our Schoolboy Past, In Those Days When, As Bonnoure Says, The Letters Wrote Themselves One By One, Either In Their Gibbosity Or Else In Their Pretentious Elegance? In Those Days, Spelling Was A Drama, Our Drama Of Culture At Work In The Interior Of A Word.

Childhood Lasts All Through Life. It Returns To Animate Broad Sections Of Adult Life... Poets Will Help Us To Find This Living Childhood Within Us, This Permanent, Durable Immobile World.

The Reverie We Intend To Study Is Poetic Reverie. This Is A Reverie Which Poetry Puts On The Right Track, The Track An Expanding Consciousness Follows. This Reverie Is Written, Or, At Least, Promises To Be Written. It Is Already Facing The Great Universe Of The Blank Page. Then Images Begin To Compose And Fall Into Place.

Thanks To His Complex Convictions, Made Strong With The Forces Of Animus And Anima, The Alchemist Believes He Is Seizing The Soul Of The World, Participating In The Soul Of The World. Thus, From The World To The Man, Alchemy Is A Problem Of Souls.