A hedge before me, one behind
a blackbird sings from that,
above my small book many-lined
I apprehend his chat.
Up trees, in costumes bluff,
mild accurate cuckoos bleat.
Lord love me, good the stuff
I write in a shady seat
Flann O'Brien ( Brian O'Nolan) (1911-1966) "The Monastic Scribe"
Painting Leon Spillaert Open Door
Painting Leon Spillaert Open Door
“... Look in the places where ink does not show.
In the breaking voice
between the lines of a song.
Our history
is written in that song,
written on the voice,
sometimes written
on the heart...”
Carmen Tafolla
No comments:
Post a Comment