The Official Website of Marcel Anicic

Midnight Bells

Death comes in the midnight hour, and after death – lament…

Son of man, you cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.
Only there is shadow under this rock,
Come in under the shadow of this red rock,
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
(T.S. Eliot, Wasteland)

Comments are closed.