I think that's called Touché, Alison.
Whew.
Doug
On 10-May-06, at 12:27 AM, Alison Croggon wrote:
> All the years you were gone, I cursed your name.
> While I endured the mockery of fools
> you sought in whorish cities an easier love
> to lock me in your jealous purity.
> There were no mountains for me, no deserts,
> only a blackening kitchen, the path to church,
> the gossip of old women. Where could I
> find any comfort in this village of thorns?
> I dressed in black like a widow and made my house
> with hard and bitter labour. I was the one
> of whom they whispered, the one whose lover left her.
> And now you say that I should wear this rose!
>
>
> On 10/5/06 1:52 PM, "Jon Corelis" <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> All the years I was gone
>>
>> by Nikephoros Vrettakos
>>
>>
>> All the years I was gone, I travelled for you.
>> I was searching to find the rose that no one else
>> would ever be able to give you. Over what mountains,
>> what deserts and what seas I passed, what rains
>> furrowed my brow, what oceans made me their toy,
>> no one will ever know. I wrung my heart
>> into a holy chalice, and from it there bloomed
>> that beautiful rose, the one that is as pure
>> as an Easter dawn. Wear it in your belt,
>> on your breast or in your hair. It will suit you well,
>> like the sun of every morning suits the world.
>>
>>
>> -- translated from the Greek by Jon Corelis
>
>
>
> Alison Croggon
>
> Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com
> Editor, Masthead: http://masthead.net.au
> Home page: http://alisoncroggon.com
>
>
Douglas Barbour
11655 - 72 Avenue NW
Edmonton Ab T6G 0B9
(780) 436 3320
Latest book: Continuations (with Sheila E Murphy)
http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=664
White parchment trees
Recording
The brief lives of insects
An automatic writing
Telling all and nothing
David Campbell
|