in this naked light
so close to madness
this orgy carried to bloodshed
the partisan on the rooftop
the fiddler in the steet
a piece of drunken excess in a freezing dawn
speckled, white petals
the breeze struck chill to the bone
my hands numb
the athlete's lotion
their rebirth in distant martyrdom
places a burden on the heart
forever urging me on
in ceaseless motion
things can never emerge from words
things can never emerge from words
â¦nichts, nichts kann mich von euch trennen. Alle muss weitergehen. die ewigkeitâ¦die ewigkeitâ¦
â¦and from which we are all ordered to emerge only dead or victorious, you swell your souls with ardor and decision. it is of you that I think when writing, of you who must die accepting the baptism of death with the serenity of your ancestors, of you who must pass over your dead, and through -over their tombs brandishing the triumphant flag in your hands, singing and if I had to do it again, I would do this path again...

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