Tuesday, September 28, 2010

To Laura


  1. This is me. Throughout the night, last night. All day today.

  2. On Hearing Of A Death by Rainer Maria Rilke

    We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death does not deal with us. We have no reason to show death admiration, love or hate; his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us

    a false impression. The world's stage is still
    filled with roles which we play. While we worry
    that our performances may not please, death also performs, although to no applause.

    But as you left us, there broke upon this stage
    a glimpse of reality, shown through the slight
    opening through which you dissapeared: green,
    evergreen, bathed in sunlight, actual woods.

    We keep on playing, still anxious, our difficult roles declaiming, accompanied by matching gestures as required. But your presence so suddenly removed from our midst and from our play, at times

    overcomes us like a sense of that other
    reality: yours, that we are so overwhelmed
    and play our actual lives instead of the performance,forgetting altogehter the applause.

  3. This is so sad. Bon voyage Laura! You were a great tweety companion in the trees of twitterdom and up in the blue sky where the vapour trails are.


Web Statistics