My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I'm feeling for the air;
A dim capacity for wings
Degrades the dress I wear.
A power of butterfly must be
The aptitude to fly,
Meadows of majesty concedes
And easy sweeps of sky.
So I must baffle at the hint
And cipher at the sign,
And make much blunder, if at last
I take the clew divine.
© Emily Dickinson
Música: Jorurney to Space © Frank Weir
3 comentarios:
Here another letany:
"Our economics that art in market,
hallowed be thy democrazy,
thy capital come,
thy agrarian reform be done in the North as it is in the South,
give us this day our daily publicity dose,
and condone our foreign debt, as we forgive your ecological debt.
Lead us no into economic recession.
But deliver us from transnational enterprises.
Amen food sovereignty.
¡Amen!
Omen!
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