Friday, December 9, 2011

For the Bible tell Me So

Everything changes, as certain as the smiling moon, as hard as the accurate words of the lost gods of time. There are not flowers in the garden yet, there are not words for the wise man, there is not future for this, again and again, waste land of silent screams. Europe, my dear Europe, my dear Spain and its fate, our tragic fate of don Quixote’s  ashes… time, again and again and, once more, the smiling disappointment of the past shattering the wise old promises. Once again, the empty future.