Marks that remain…
and the time erases … then it comes, the wind, his very father, and takes all away:
any horizon is small …
finally the waters flow, as wished by Heraclitus, and wash away — cleaning the air [well, they do what they can!],
the green of the fields, scarps, walls, ravines, plains, paths of mountains and cities, our fearful faces …
certain shades that nobody sees but knows that they exist, until one day sicut fur in nocte it rings at the doorbell,
the Undesired of mankind, more surreptitious than a fasting viper. Damn it!
It comes without much ado: the big shade that erases all the marks.
The end of the times, the end of the wind that henceforth neither blows anymore nor bothers anybody.
Have you ever heard of a deceased saying that he feels bothered?
In the kingdom of Nothing it’s just like that, no wind, no chronos, nor waters, nothing at all to bother you and me.
Only the placid eternity and the emptiness in one of these black holes that have been said to proliferate very much
voracious in the bottomless corners of the universe and the whole theory keeps saying that blablabla, but until now
nobody saw them nor has returned to tell about.
Astrophysicists … are not all characters of science fiction?
Their favorite pastime is to count particles lost in the space giving names and numbers and multiplying everything
by millions and billions, giving them cryptic names that God knows what they mean, no He doesn’t!, or if they are
of any use, because, here between you and me, mister: what do you win with it?
… excluding the millionaire salaries, of course.
Photo: our river of the childhood, now
just a bit water, lonely… alive!
Millions of smiles…
right, smiles … and so many tears!
A “furtive” one as in the old aria by Donizetti.
Or the mellifluous keep smiling of the famous hit – millions of times masterly performed by the voice of dark velvet,
Nat King Cole – Smile though your heart is aching… Smile even though it’s breaking…
Along the same lines (quite sentimental) the tenor aria in Lehár's operetta, Immer nur lächeln und immer vergnügt …
nobody better than Fritz Wunderlich singing it, so pure and elegant … and whose title ["The Land of Smiles" - a kitsch
portrait of a great country where the shadows of its more recent history would not justify it] seems to accentuate –
day after day – our believing in the hope that the ghost of Nothingness, before and after time, can only be scared
away, beaten, exorcised - through art.
Humor and art, daily doses of good humor and fine art, the work of each sensible person who can truly feel and act
this way, regardless of color, race, sex, belief, level of knowledge, gifted, conscious, in one’s own style, for oneself
and whoever may have some uninhibited, critical perception, not too serious and much less solemn of life.
The rest is silence. And some beliefs. The old derision. It remains - a poetic vision of all and good music!
Franz Lehár: Das Land des Lächelns
(V. León, Herzer, Löhner-Beda)