Clear. The rain does that. There is nothing but the surfaces that have run from here, unadorned, clean of stain. Away and expanded those halogen pools. They radiate. The smell is intoxicating to those that don't smell it often enough - to those that do, it saps the strength. It is the night after rain.
And, Kelli: you embody hope. All the best in this piteous race of apes, I've seen in you. It radiates beyond the scope of reason: into me. You see goodness where I have long forgotten it existed. You smile in a way that is not treacherous. You ask questions and, I realize, cautiously, that you mean to know their answer. You are those lamps in the night. How I have missed goodness and forgotten simple purity.
Un bel di vedremo - translated:
One good day, we will see
Arising a strand of smoke
Over the far horizon on the sea
And then the ship appears
And then the ship is white
It enters into the port, it rumbles its salute.
Do you see it? He is coming!
I don't go down to meet him, not I.
I stay upon the edge of the hill
And I wait a long time
but I do not grow weary of the long wait.
And leaving from the crowded city,
A man, a little speck
Climbing the hill.
Who is it? Who is it?
And as he arrives
What will he say? What will he say?
He will call Butterfly from the distance
I without answering
Stay hidden
A little to tease him,
A little as to not die.
At the first meeting,
And then a little troubled
He will call, he will call
"Little one, dear wife
Blossom of orange"
The names he called me at his last coming.
All this will happen,
I promise you this
Hold back your fears -
I with secure faith wait for him.
No comments:
Post a Comment