8.6.14

01:21 & 01:51.


Μέρα Μαγιού μου μίσεψες
μέρα Μαγιού σε χάνω
άνοιξη γιε που αγάπαγες
κι ανέβαινες απάνω
Στο λιακωτό και κοίταζες
και δίχως να χορταίνεις
άρμεγες με τα μάτια σου
το φως της οικουμένης
Και μου ιστορούσες με φωνή
γλυκιά ζεστή κι αντρίκεια
τόσα όσα μήτε του γιαλού
δεν φτάνουν τα χαλίκια
Και μου `λεγες πως όλ' αυτά
τα ωραία θα `ν' δικά μας
και τώρα εσβήστης κι έσβησε
το φέγγος κι η φωτιά μας

2 σχόλια:

erin είπε...

you move me to bring up the page of the hollow men. i laugh at my younger self. i referenced this in my graduation yearbook. i can't imagine what i thought i knew 25 years ago. i wonder what i know now; more importantly, what i don't know.

i hear arvo part after. this music means a great deal to me. do you and i somehow share the same kind of something with wings which beats behind our organs? or is that an illusion?

xo
erin

Chimaera Flux είπε...

for me, it's a great sense of freedom and simplicity for someone to decide that eventually he knows what he doesn't know. though, to know what he doesn't like is more practical :)

So, i really don't know what is going on here, there, with me, with you, with Eliot's words, with Part's notes, but the fact that all these travel so far and finally are moving another person, is amazing for me.

p.s. this 'something' has definately wings!