04 Mai Rage, rage against the dying of the light… ©carine roth
Parfois tout se passe comme si.
Il y avait la Guerre,
nous nous marchions aux lèvres océannes de la terre.
Marcher comme une prière.
Walking Waters.
Et puis là,
comme un choc,
comme une surprise,
sur la terre rouge des anciens,
la présence de cette Etre qui me brise le coeur ouvert,
avalanche de respect et de tendresse.
Rattlesnake.
Se dire que tout se passe comme si…
Comme si la forme d’être au monde la plus essentielle ne parlait que de simplicité et d’intimité.
The Path of Intimacy.
merci, je te pardonne, pardonne moi, adieu.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Dylan Thomas