Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light…
– Eugenio Montale –
and bay the moon…
All night I hear
so many echoes in the forest I’m tempted
to look back, to save myself in hindsight,
where all I see is the absence of me.
Where all I hear is your voice…
— Chard deNiord —
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
— W.H. Auden —
the moment…
The moment when, after many years of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room, house, half-acre, square mile, island, country, knowing at last how you got there, and say, I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.
No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
– Margaret Atwood –
après work…
sharp dressed man…
Silk suit, black tie
And I don’t even need a reason why
They come runnin’ just as fast as they can
Cuz every girl’s crazy about a sharp dressed man…
