will reach out beyond the big bang, and what
it will sound like is one question, and another
what the silence before it will sound like the silence after.
Martin Johnston, last lines of "The Brazen Head". A great poet from a family doomed to disaster. A poète maudit.
will reach out beyond the big bang, and what
it will sound like is one question, and another
what the silence before it will sound like the silence after.
Martin Johnston, last lines of "The Brazen Head". A great poet from a family doomed to disaster. A poète maudit.
Heart, my heart, be not cast down,
bear up and accept your fate.
Spring will come, and recreate
all this winter has undone.
Think how much remains to love
still, in this most lovely world.
All its beauty will unfurl,
my heart, unfurl for you to love.
Heart, my heart, be not cast down,
bear up and accept your fate.
Spring will come, and recreate
all this winter has undone.
Think how much remains to love
still, in this most lovely world.
All its beauty will unfurl,
my heart, unfurl for you to love.
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