How very strange.
    
    2004-02-29
  
  
  
   Rachel
   
  
    
        
  
  
Previous Posts
- Now the birds speak in secret rhythms and the tree...
 - Gram Peter, call home. Email me.
 - This goes in your numbering system, not mine. one...
 - Fifty-one. I don't know what it is, but I dist...
 - Ash Wednesday IV Who walked between the violet a...
 - Fifty. notapoem. The Window, by Sevim Burak (1931...
 - Forty-nine and perfect. from (prep.) 1. Starting ...
 - Everyone passing this window turns and smiles. Th...
 - From the PowerPoint Anthology of Literature
 - a'cause: Edie Brickell - Little Miss S. Joan Arma...
 
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 
'They called me the hyacinth girl.' 
 
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, 
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not 
  
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither 
  
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. 
  
Od' und leer das Meer. 
-- T.S. Eliot 
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home