"These stifling evenings at Baden-Baden with the room full of moving flowers, the windows open to all the noises of the valley: a distant dog, distant fireworks, that stupid band in the Kurzgarten, the perpetually renewed fountain in the courtyard, a villa gate being shut. Lights dotted here and there on the twin mountains disappear one by one. A breeze from the windows makes all the candles run on the same side. Flashes of summer lightning—silent, bluish, darting."
Sunday, August 16, 2009
On the occasion of the 149th anniversary of his birth, here's a nice translation of an unpublished Laforgue sketch of Baden-Baden from David Arkell's Looking for Laforgue: