Y así sigue siendo.


The kettles on, the sun has gone, another day
She offers me, tibetan tea, on a flower tray
Shes at the door, shes wants to score, she really needs to say:
i once loved you a long time ago, you know
Where the winds own forget-me-nots blow, you know
But I couldnt let myself go
Not knowing what on earth there was to know
But I wish that I had, cause it makes me so sad
That I never had one of your children.
Across the room, inside a tomb, a chance is waxed and waned
The night is young, why are we so hung-up, in each others chains
I must take her, I must make her, while the dove domains
See the juice run as she flies
Run my wings under her sighs
As the flames of eternity rise
To lick us with the first born lash of dawn
Oh really my dear, I cant see what we fear
With ourselves, sat here between us
And at the door, we cant say more, than just another day
Without a sound, I turn around, and I walk away.




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Muero de casualidad. Y es que ya lo dijo Kafka de casualidad, lo más difícil de resistir de las sirenas eran sus silencios.

jueves, 12 de marzo de 2009

Photo: Jonah and the whale, Pamplona Bible

Jonah, Pamplona Bible, Navarre 1197. Amiens, Bibliothèque municipale, ms. 108, fol. 146r .