One day I sat next to a derelict column, in the place where I begun to lose my memories. “Where are you going wearing such a sacred and elegant coat?” whispered someone whose voiceprint was recognizable as if it came from the apse of a Gothic cathedral and I was at the bottom of its right nave, yet I was outdoors and those words were murmured by the wind. The body curved like a lamppost in the rain, hunched over a burden that I hadn't carried since I was no more young. The dignity of an Antiochian anchorite but with a glazed glance and enfeebled vigor. However, it is likely that it does not matter that I do not recognize anything of what surrounds me, the original experience in the past is the root and true beauty is such when there are limits where perception is referred back to what it does not see and hear. So I fled very early, leaving the desert behind.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
