"It is a rare person who can hear the blunt authority of a terminal diagnosis, refuse to accept it, and choose a different path." - The Art of Racing in the Rain.
"Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus
The Moon Wakes
by Garcia Lorca
When the moon sails out
the bells fade into stillness
and there emerge the pathways
that can’t be penetrated.
When the moon sails out
the water hides earth’s surface,
the heart feels like an island
in the infinite silence.
Nobody eats an orange
under the moon’s fullness.
It is correct to eat, then,
green and icy fruit.
When the moon sails out
with a hundred identical faces,
the coins made of silversob in your pocket.
by Garcia Lorca
When the moon sails out
the bells fade into stillness
and there emerge the pathways
that can’t be penetrated.
When the moon sails out
the water hides earth’s surface,
the heart feels like an island
in the infinite silence.
Nobody eats an orange
under the moon’s fullness.
It is correct to eat, then,
green and icy fruit.
When the moon sails out
with a hundred identical faces,
the coins made of silversob in your pocket.
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