Blog Travel
Day: 93. morning of October 15
Climate: rainy, cloudy, stormy, cold.
near our port of destination, the crew says .
from the skylight of the cabin light is dawning pale:
"The Light of Despair"
the sea has been shaken in recent weeks.
storms that lash the keel making shudder.
just a few hours of calm amidst a fog so dense
is possible to make a cut with a knife.
Gilgamesh is shaking his infinite back.
into the bottomless abyss that is below sea
the Lighthouse is the last frontier beyond
him no return is possible, they say.
Howard has confirmed to me that is the plateau of Leng,
that extends beyond the forbidden city of Ur,
where we go.
recommended me to sleep, sleep without dreaming,
sleep sleep, sleep.
to give me the strength to dream
within dreams.
is the only escape, he says.
your only way out
emergency.
and then I recited this poem
of our beloved master Edgar Poe
(with his unmistakable accent of Providence),
for Le Gray:
"The Light of Despair"
the sea has been shaken in recent weeks.
storms that lash the keel making shudder.
just a few hours of calm amidst a fog so dense
is possible to make a cut with a knife.
Gilgamesh is shaking his infinite back.
into the bottomless abyss that is below sea
the Lighthouse is the last frontier beyond
him no return is possible, they say.
Howard has confirmed to me that is the plateau of Leng,
that extends beyond the forbidden city of Ur,
where we go.
recommended me to sleep, sleep without dreaming,
sleep sleep, sleep.
to give me the strength to dream
within dreams.
is the only escape, he says.
your only way out
emergency.
and then I recited this poem
of our beloved master Edgar Poe
(with his unmistakable accent of Providence),
for Le Gray:
a Dream Within a Dream Take
this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow --
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less _gone_?
_All_ that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand --
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep -- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
_One_ from the pitiless wave?
Is _all_ that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Un sueño dentro de un sueño
¡Toma este beso en tu frente!
And in the moment of abandon, let me confess
following:
not wrong when you consider
that my days have been a dream;
and if hope has faded
in one night or one day,
in a vision or beyond,
least is it going?
Everything we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
a tormented shore waves
and hold within my hand
golden sands.
yet how
trickle through my fingers into the abyss,
While I weep while I weep!
Oh God, how I can not
I encircle you with a tighter clasp?
Oh, God, how I can not save
not one from the pitiless wave?
Everything that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream?
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