Πέμπτη, 25 Οκτωβρίου 2012

Heonan



I sing a song of sinking ships
In a soft sleeping sea...


They came bearing torches
In small wooden rescue boats
Or were they not
We could not see past the fog
Distant yet the stench of burning wool and rotten fish
Still reached our noses

The Humdrum were coming to save us

And we stood still
With our manuscripts soaked under the ocean
Fine manusripts were they, love-driven manuscripts
Now they lay drenched
Fresh ink drifting apart from paper and unto the waves of the sea
For where could we go hence,
And how to escape?


Some say a tired ocean pulls everything apart,
Others say it's finally all coming together
Yet, the ink once forming words -our words
Got carried away towards our sinking ships
Transfixed stood we
As it reached the keel
Yet, the words once forming sentences -our sentences
Were stuck in throat
And flying shily towards mind
Yet, the sentences once expressing thoughts -our thoughts
Were lucid no more
And the Humdrum approached
How could we possibly escape them?
They whisper "Oh! Apotheosis. Oh holy bulb of light"
We learn that it is shadow, not just darkness
That gives form to night


They reached us
Amidst the Humdrum stood we
And then they saved us, and then we fell
Never to see each other nor ourselves again

The ink stamped the hulls
Once speaking of love
Once product of creativity, man's sole true virtue
Now imbued putrid wood
And were we still of this world
We could finally understand
How creativity transforms through the aeons


Our children will only learn from the Humdrum
For they are the Survivors
And we are the eternal Disappearers
Our legacy, a hazy reflection of light on the surface of the sea
Enough change to keep us satisfied
Enough to change the face of tide.
That glow from the sunken ships below is ink reformed
A patrimony by those who cared
And when no one remembers where these
Ships were built
Or knows whether they found home,
It is your time.
When the light is no more,
It is your time.

Aye, the glow formed words
Unearthly, unspoken language
Uttered, it would sound something like this:

If our mothers have taught as anything
It is that there is no shame in a fading light
But instead, a pale worldly beauty
So be tired, good children
Be tired, but be strong, in a word: persevere
For the dimmer the light, the longer it shines when we are gone
Let them glare
And mind your ray...


*The highlighted verses are taken from various lyrics of the album "Blessed Are The Bonds" by The Pax Cecilia