Friday, March 30, 2007

Light saving

Sometimes, many times, everything is about a morning impression. That treasure under your pillow; some treasures are gold, some treasures are sun-dried iris, some are the bitter salts of a poisonous portion. What have you reaped courageous peasant in your basket all night long? I cannot conclude, I cannot argue, I may only guess from the mood, this crystal which bears many fingerprints. I may only guess from the music you ask as a companion for your caffeine remedy.

AND NO MORE SHALL WE PART (Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds)
And no more shall we part
It will no longer be necessary
And no more will I say,
"dear heart"
I am alone and she has left me
And no more shall we part
The contracts are drawn up,
the ring is locked upon the finger
And never again will my letters start
"Sadly", or "in the depths of winter"

And no more shall we part
All the hatchets have been buried now
And all of birds will sing to your beautiful heart
Upon the bough

And no more shall we part
Your chain of command has been silenced now
And all of those birds would've sung to your beautiful heart
Anyhow Lord,
stay by me
Don't go down
I will never be free
If I'm not free now Lord,
stay by me
Don't go down
I never was free
What are you talking about?
For no more shall we part
And no more shall we part

Ποτέ ελεύθερος δεν υπήρξα
Τι κάθεσαι και λες;
Γιατί δεν θα χωριστούμε πια
Και πια δε θ'αποχωριζόμαστε.

Tonight they moved time one hour ahead. I had completely forgotten about it. Suddenly I was reminded and I went all around the flat pushing time one hour ahead. Many clocks, alarms, my three watches, my mobile. Wondering where this hour has been stored for me, in my life, in the lives of others. And if its refund in October, will be of the same face-value, or whether the Economy of Life will be distorted in inflation rates. It goes arbitrary this Central Institution of Standards.

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2 Comments:

Blogger Akropoli said...

This hour has been kept in the details of the sunrays reflected into a summer full of light, warmth, and freedom.

6:43 PM  
Blogger Vas said...

You are right, i keep telling myself: there is no other dimension in time, stubborn mind, except the intant, except the infinity of an instance. And then I pretend to forget it: it is the perversion of a historian and a dreamer, that i insist on past and future. There is no refund for time.

6:50 PM  

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