By William Markiewicz
Polish poet Boleslaw Lesmian wrote about a little shoemaker, mad and crippled, who, at night, sewed boots for God:
"In sewing there is nothing but sewing
Then lets sew while remains a breath
In life there is nothing but living
Then lets live till the edge of the end...
Be blessed, this living mood
From which creative might
Comes out such a boot
In such silvery night."
French poet Jules Laforque wrote:
"From there to here
From here to there
In the truth, in the truth, that's all there is
And for the rest, let God have mercy on me."
A Spanish anonymous poet:
"The day I was born
Which planet was reigning
That everywhere I go
My black star guides me."
That's all folks... Just some echoes from endless night.Back to the index of the Vagabond