Dream of: 27 August 1995 (2) "Beau Ciel"

I was rushing to get to what seemed to be a high school gym class. When I opened the door and stepped into the small room next to the gym, I had to stop and face a corpulent man (probably in his late 50s) sitting right in front of me behind a desk. Although he resembled judge Schwille, I recognized him as my teacher.

He immediately asked me if I had memorized the poem. Suddenly I remembered I was supposed to have memorized a poem for his class. It was a very long French poem by the French poet Paul Valery, and indeed I had memorized it all, although I hadn't repeated it to myself in several days, and knew I wouldn't be able to recite the whole thing without reviewing it. Nevertheless, when he told me to begin reciting, I immediately launched into the poem, reciting, "Ce toit tranquille, ou marchent des colombes ..."

But I quickly became nervous and confused, unable to remember the lines – lines which I had known so well just a few days ago. The teacher told me to stop and start all over, but not to start at the beginning. He told me to just start somewhere else in the poem.

I knew the poem had many images and meanings, and that whatever lines I chose would probably say something about me as well. I started reciting, but in my haste, my words came out in an almost meaningless jumble. I stopped, started over again, this time in a slow measured tone. I recited, "Beau ciel, vrai ciel, regarde moi qui change, apres tant d'orgueil, apres tant d'etrange oisivite, mais pleine de pouvoir ...."

I hesitated for the next line, thinking it was "J'attends l'echo de ma grandeur interne," but not quite sure.

The professor stopped me, apparently satisfied with me, and sent me on my way. I walked out of the small room and into the large gym. I hurried past people in my way, feeling intently that I needed to perfect the poem in my mind.

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