ORPHEUS

les nuages, les merveilleux nuages...
CH. BAUDELAIRE

Orpheus never — but never — found any consolation for the double loss of Eurydice: sometimes — for a while — he'd sing a song in his languor at others — again for a while — colours fascinated him with their infinite varieties and their accidental combinations of all kinds

once — at the sun's setting — he noticed in the blue of the sky fascinating arrays of clouds — about which in Kavouri once a gendarme* as if repentant had cried: "Behold the clouds of Engonopoulos!" —

yet these — in truth — were not the clouds of Engonopoulos they were knives blades sharpened daggers and sabres that upon their blue gowns were worn by Thrace's most cruel virgins

and brandishing these in their heartless hands the cruel virgins fell upon him — I repeat — with these butchering hacking Orpheus

*I wonder if he knew his colleague — of a lower rank however — serving in Tinchebray (Orne)?