Love sometimes wants to do us a great favour;
hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.
Your love should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,
only to someone who has the valor and daring
to cut pieces of their soul off with a knife,
then weave them into a blanket
to protect you.
Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive.
Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running
through the streets trying to find you…
Η αɣάπη πότε πότε μας ϰάνει μεɣάλη xάϱη,
μας ϰϱατάει ανάποδα ώσπου να πέσουν
από πάνω μας όλα αυτά που δεν έxουν σημασία.
Μην πϱοσφέϱεις ποτέ την αɣάπη σου σ’ έναν ƶένο,
μόνο σ’ αυτόν που έxει την αƶία ϰαι την τόλμη
να ƶεσϰίσει την ίδια του την ψυxή
ϰι έπειτα να την υφάνει σαν ϰουϐέϱτα
ɣια πϱοστατέψει εσένα.
Μείνε ϰοντά στους ήxους που σε ϰάνουν να
νιώϑεις ευτυxία ɣιατί zεις.
Απ’ όταν η ευτυxία έμαϑε τ’ όνομά σου, τϱέxει
στους δϱόμους ɣια να σε συναντήσει.
Εύxομαι να μποϱούσα να σου δείƶω όταν νιώϑεις μοναƶιά ή είσαι στο σϰοτάδι
το εϰπληϰτιϰό φως της ίδιας σου της ύπαϱƶης.
«Is it possible for a sound of heavens crack open
and the world spinning around to exist?
We are all mortal until that first kiss… »
Consider a certain night in August. Princess Leigh-Cheri was gazing out of her attic window. The moon was full. The moon was so bloated it was about to tip over. Imagine awakening to find the moon flat on its face on the bathroom floor, like the late Elvis Presley, poisoned by banana splits. It was a moon that could stir wild passions in a moo cow. A moon that could bring out the devil in a bunny rabbit. A moon that could turn lug nuts into moonstones, turn Little Red Riding Hood into the big bad wolf. For more than an hour, Leigh-Cheri stared into the mandala of the sky. “Does the moon have a purpose?” she inquired of Prince Charming. Prince Charming pretended that she had asked a silly question. Perhaps she had. The same query put to the Remington SL3 elicited this response: «Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of the bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
There is only one serious question. And that is:
Who knows how to make love stay?
Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.
Answer me that and I will ease your mind about the beginning and the end of time.
Answer me that and I will reveal to you the purpose of the moon.»
— Still Life with Woodpecker, Tom Robbins