Memories, wandering troubadours in the familiar cobbled roads of yesterday dress the present in notes of the cold soul. The water, weavered on pompous looms, bows on the paws of the world. Forgotten souls in the waste trying in vain to save the just that’s drowning in muddy and unjust depths. And the sirens of our youth, old whores, sauntering stray through fainting lights. I try to save myself from your eyes that lusciously suck me deep inside them; I find myself in lodges of the lunatics, and pain is both light and dark. My sight is empty today, it doesn’t focus anywhere, it doesn’t aim and the chums on the way have jaded. With my shadow as a companion on the uphill, strolling deep in my mind through souls I never acquainted, resting the sight of the world. Memories melt dancing like ice tucked in the sun, worn out moments sweating, trying to live a little. Somewhere inside us vagrant dreams stuck in poor docks, vagabonds plunged into a wake, surveying the lie in the horizon. For there are explanations that can only be felt and never said. For there are people who manage to put up with our differences, our tortuous and our wry bits, our good and our lousy times. Alas, how alike are pleasure and grief. Only with steps faster than decay can we survive.

“It seems that somewhere people are celebrating;
although there are no houses or human beings
I can listen to guitars and other laughters which
are not nearby

Maybe far away, within the ashes of heavens
Andromeda, the Bear, or the Virgin…

I wonder; is loneliness the same, all over the
worlds ? ” (Odysseus Elytis, Calendar of an Invisible April)


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