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The Spiritist Review - Journal of Psychological Studies - 1863 > February > Spiritist poetry - The patient and the doctor
Spiritist poetry - The patient and the doctor
Essay dedicated to Mr. Editor of the Renard, from Bordeaux, by the rapping Spirit of Carcassone.
I can bear no long, doctor, too much in my way!
Said Mr. Rochefort the other day.
Feel my pulse, doctor, I am ill;
The whole world in peril.
It seems that God has lost control.
He is down and I curse it all.
First comes the steam… Is that how we travel?
What happened to the pleasant couch, a marvel
That took us risk free from Paris to Sceaux?
They say it is progress… Doctor it is Ridiculous!
The planet is moving backwards... It is chaos, nothing
More... A cable, a line of steel, from Calais to Beijing.
A tailor sews without needles; there is fire in the water;
From cotton they make gun powder.
An art student armed with one brush alone
Sells portraits made under the sun.
Glory, glory to the past! In this frivolous century
The people speaks! Screams equality.
From Bordeaux Sabò wrote! Look doctor,
It’s all changed. I shall look for
And find the rascals! Hell!
I will warn the head of the Etincelle;
This is where, sword in hand, a skull defends us,
That's not all, Doctor, oh scandal! People fuss
That the good of La Fontaine using the formula,
A true dead, a Spirit gives us the rule. "
- Here Rochefort spat, then he continues:
"Doctor, in good faith, do you believe in the Spirit?
- Bah! Said the doctor! Come on now, it
Is difficult to believe… Spirit? Not even your own. "
NOTE: The text above that is up to the reader to judge was obtained spontaneously by tiptology like other beautiful verses by the same medium regarding a witty article written by Mr. Aug. Bez and published in the Renard that is willing to open its columns to the followers of Spiritism. The Etincelle (Spark) is another newspaper from Bordeaux edited by Mr. de Rattier that throws incendiary darts against Spiritism but that so far was only able to produce a little spark like those of fireworks that fade away before reaching the ground. As for Mr. Rochefort he will certainly find this an unhealthy poetry.
I can bear no long, doctor, too much in my way!
Said Mr. Rochefort the other day.
Feel my pulse, doctor, I am ill;
The whole world in peril.
It seems that God has lost control.
He is down and I curse it all.
First comes the steam… Is that how we travel?
What happened to the pleasant couch, a marvel
That took us risk free from Paris to Sceaux?
They say it is progress… Doctor it is Ridiculous!
The planet is moving backwards... It is chaos, nothing
More... A cable, a line of steel, from Calais to Beijing.
A tailor sews without needles; there is fire in the water;
From cotton they make gun powder.
An art student armed with one brush alone
Sells portraits made under the sun.
Glory, glory to the past! In this frivolous century
The people speaks! Screams equality.
From Bordeaux Sabò wrote! Look doctor,
It’s all changed. I shall look for
And find the rascals! Hell!
I will warn the head of the Etincelle;
This is where, sword in hand, a skull defends us,
That's not all, Doctor, oh scandal! People fuss
That the good of La Fontaine using the formula,
A true dead, a Spirit gives us the rule. "
- Here Rochefort spat, then he continues:
"Doctor, in good faith, do you believe in the Spirit?
- Bah! Said the doctor! Come on now, it
Is difficult to believe… Spirit? Not even your own. "
NOTE: The text above that is up to the reader to judge was obtained spontaneously by tiptology like other beautiful verses by the same medium regarding a witty article written by Mr. Aug. Bez and published in the Renard that is willing to open its columns to the followers of Spiritism. The Etincelle (Spark) is another newspaper from Bordeaux edited by Mr. de Rattier that throws incendiary darts against Spiritism but that so far was only able to produce a little spark like those of fireworks that fade away before reaching the ground. As for Mr. Rochefort he will certainly find this an unhealthy poetry.