2005-04-11
Rachel
Previous Posts
- Sunset in Appalachia, bituminous bulwarkAgainst th...
- Hey, nineteen. These rituals so small and adult, r...
- The new Flight 2 graphics are up! Beautiful.
- "Terrific, isn't it, having this pop circus?" said...
- Lux perpetua luceat eis.The Economist takes a baby...
- Robert Creeley passed away this morning at age 78....
- Small Ghost PoemSay it's the leaves, the way they ...
- in like a lionHazardous Weather OutlookWinter Stor...
- game, set, theoryAriel Rubinstein has made the ful...
- Je chante dans aujourd'hui français. L'ExcessiveJe...
'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
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