Massachusetts College of Art and Design - Palette and Pen Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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t M AI{(t. l{K ' l ' TA 150 1, AX ' rcaclicr ' I ' niiniii); ‘2.H St.. i.rMos ■‘( uift she claims is licr own desire. For in solitude, life can (jive her (ire; ' I ' lie (ires of oFservanee and memorv, loo; et she ' ll talk and talk wisely, if yon ask her to. . IIFLKX FIlRIdCII Modeling Heaeon St.. Huooki.ink PtKjcant, ' JI; Muxeart, JO, ' ll (iirl of grace, subtle wiles, frank feiniidtiity, and heaped up with interesting fun to pack into many half hours iii the modeling rooms. FRANCOIS VILLON Villon ' s Paris is grey with gaunt Death stalking; The gibbet ' s gruesome silhouette is never humaul.v undeeorated; Terror unprejudiced elutelies the hearts of both the weak and mighty; The great Leveller does not di.seriniinate. Aliraeulously Villon escapes, X’ot because tlie.rogue, the rake, the rover, the roue de.serves to live; It is his word that must survive. The musical, the rhythmic Word The brave, the bold, the vigorous Word Without shame, without fear; It is the beautiful, the spontaneous Wonl that must survive. True Art lives despite time ' s knavish tricks. Each to his own interpretation; I choo.se the romantic figure N ' illon might have been — Or I am sure he was. (Leave the skinny, ratty thief for Steven.son’s essay. Leave the black, sinning, drinking fellow. The lascivious, lying, immoral, ruthless rascal. The killing, cutting, conscienceless devil. The vile hunted dog!) For me the pitifully poor starved student. Master of Arts at twenty-one! For me the witty, wanton, ballad-singing lover. The rollicking, capering, mischief-maker Who seeks excitement, and not finding it. must needs create it; He runs the whole gamut of human emotions, 15ut for all that, is still the boy, not meaning half the havoc he ' s guilty of. And rebelling then against his punishment. Hungry Francois, never approaching .satiety, Constantl.v tormented by his innate healthy appetites, Aching soul-hungers. Oh, the wickedness of his life was not all deliberate! The lean years pre.ssed hard. How fortunate for World Literature that the “sunset dance had not claimed him When so often the hangman beckoned. Instead “Le Petit Testament sparkled bitterly from his pen; “Le Grand Testament glittered no le.ss with vivid gems of poesy. When masters sing, the song remains. Villon remains. The finiteness of all things does not touch him. Immortality cleaves to him. Love Villon ' s verse although you cannot find it in your heart To (juite forgive the man. Do not war against the erring Villon; Is not Poetry truce enough? IIeatkke Cohen ' , ' ;50 19

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UNDERCLASSES ■ ■ ■ ORGANIZATIONS