Friday, 1 August 2014

those childhood summers

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The fair in the month of August brought me many other sadnesses and exaltations. The full spectacle swelled like a symphony, from the prelude of isolated attractions that arrived much before the others and that indicated the general tone of the fair, like the prolonged stray notes that announce the entire theme of the composition at the beginning of the concert, to the grandiose conclusion, bursting forth with shouts, shots and fanfare on the culminating day, followed by the immense silence of the field, deserted once again. 

The few attractions that came early encompassed, in essence, the whole fair and represented it exactly. It was enough that only the first of them were set up, for all the colors, all the brilliance and all the carbide smell of the whole fair to descend into town.

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In the obscurity of the boulevard a tiara of colored glass would light up toward evening, like the earth’s first constellation. Soon others would follow and the boulevard became a luminous corridor, along which I would wander, speechless, as I had once seen, in an illustrated edition of Jules Verne, a boy my age, leaning against the porthole of a submarine, looking out into the suboceanic darkness, at the wonderful and mysterious marine phosphorescences.

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Adventures in Immediate Unreality 

translated by Jeanie Han 

Saturday, 7 June 2014

Saturday, 3 May 2014

the colour of spring

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Forget our fate
The pedlar sings
Set up to sell my soul
I've lived a life for wealth to bring

And yet I'll gaze
The colour of spring
Immerse in that one moment
Left in love with everything

Soar the bridges
That I burnt before
One song among us all

Friday, 18 April 2014

we only live in the shadows

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"but please do put everything away when you are done playing", i told her, as she busied herself with transforming the entire living room floor into a ship, using wooden bricks, vases, books, glass beads and every other imaginable object she would find around. 

"but i want to keep my ship here as it is, even as i am away at my grandparents'".

"no, this won't do - we will stumble upon these things, besides guests might come and then what".

"no problem, we will invite them onto the ship, no?"

"well..." - i wanted to say something but then i realized i didn't exactly find any tenable argument as to why we couldn't do that. she looked at me, then to her ship again, sprawling over the floor as we were speaking: 
"it is so boring to live as you do. your grown-up world is so boring. you only have rooms, and no ships hidden in them any longer". 
i couldn't make out the expression on her face when she said this, something between sadness and bewilderment. 

(perhaps it is true that, as we grow old, we only live in the shadows of what once was a luminous world filled with being)