Ήρθες;


Πες μου.



Κι άκουσέ με.


Μη μιλάς.
Απλά, άκου.

ας περιαυτολογήσουμε...

Τετάρτη, 14 Ιανουαρίου 2009

enough said - not enough done...

Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?

The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

by Sylvia Plath

(τα είπε όλα η Σύλβια - δεν χρειάζεται να πω οτιδήποτε άλλο)

JOY* Division*

JOY* Division*
if you always create it, you' ll never have to divide it...*

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Assassinin'

Hide and Seek! Look and See...