Cantares… (Songs….Machado’s Testament) All goes, and all remains, but our task is to go, to go creating roads roads through the sea. My songs never chased after glory to remain in human memory. I love the subtle worlds weightless and charming, worlds like soap-bubbles. I like to see them, daubed with sunlight and scarlet, quiver, under a blue sky, suddenly and burst… I never chased glory. Traveller, the road is only your footprint, and no more; traveller, there’s no road, the road is your travelling. Going becomes the road and if you look back you will see a path none can tread again. Traveller, every track leaves its wake on the sea… Once in this place where bushes now have thorns the sound of a poet’s cry was heard ‘Traveller there’s no road the road is your travelling…’ Step by step, line by line… The poet died far from home. Shrouded by dust of a neighbouring land. At his parting they heard him cry: ‘Traveller there’s no road the road is your travelling…’ Step by step, line by line… When the goldfinch can’t sing, when the poet’s a wanderer, when nothing aids our prayer. ‘Traveller there’s no road the road is your travelling…’ Step by step, line by line.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Jun 2013 18:31:52 +0000
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