saturday

"The deaf and the blind"
Will we reach the sea if bells are shells
In our pockets, if the sea is crashing
In the sea, or will we rather be
The bearers of a purer, stiller water?

When water chafes its hands, it sharpens knives.
Warriors have found their weapons in the waves
And the clashing of their blows is like
Rocks wrecking ships at night.

It is thunder, it is tempest. Why not the silence
Of the flood? For in us is the space we've dreamed
To hold the deepest silence and we breathe
Like the wind on the tremendous seas, the wind

That slowly crawls over all the horizons.
-Paul Èluard