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But what of her whose heart is troubled by it,
The mother who would soothe and set him free,
Fearing the song’s storm-shaken ecstasy—
Oh, as the moon that has no power to quiet
The strong wind-driven sea.
i think about you
and all the seconds
i would’ve called mine
slip quietly
into the bottle of time
you carry in your pocket
sway with me, everything sad --
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
frogs trying to figure
the sky;
sway with me, sad things --
fingers split on a forge
old age like breakfast shell
used books, used people
used flowers, used love
I need you
I need you
I need you:
it has run away
like a horse or a dog,
dead or lost
or unforgiving.
Order is shattered in a strange guttural tone that resounded
among the walls of the houses, which seemed dead and deserted.
Behind the closed shutters, eyes watched the conquerors, who,
by right of war, were not masters of the city and of the lives
and fortunes of its people.

In their darkened ruins the inhabitants have given way to the
same feeling of panic which is aroused by the natural cataclysmns.
Their wisdom and strength alike are of no avail for those
devastating upheavals of the earth.

Though the same feeling is experienced whenever the established order
of things is upset, when security ceases to exist.  When all that
was previously protected by the laws of man and nature is suddenly
placed at the mercy of brutal unreasoning force.  This feeling of
panic and confusion, this allowance of ourselves to become dazed
in the whirlwind of abusing senses that is in its own right invasion.

An earthquake buries a whole people beneath the ruins of
their houses.  The river, over-flowed by the unforgiving rains which
seemed destined to never end, runs in spite; sweeping away the
bodies of drowned peasants together with the carcasses of
cattle and rafters forn from roofs.  The victorious army; slaughtering
all who resist, making prisoners of the rest, looting by right of
the sword, and thanking their god to the sound of canon.
What is time to those who wait for it to finish,
from the clicking of the clock
to the clocking off from a shift,
only time can tell, but it doesn't wait for me.

The power of time are all around us everywhere,
from the time of steam and coal
to the power of a few atoms,
only times shows power, but it doesn't wait for me

Sounds of time can always be heard everywhere,
from the creeks and goans of old bridges
to the outcrys of the flocking birds,
only time shows music, but it doesnt wait for me

Beauty in the eye of the beholder always grows everywhere,
from the nature of the water flowing over hillsides
to the imagination of a human being,
only time shows creativity, but it never waits for me
Who seek to find monogamy,
Pursuing it from bed to bed--
I think they would be better dead."
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