Bu da Borges, sevdiğim. The Moment Where will they be the centuries, where the sleep of swords that the Tartar ones dreamed, where the strong walls that they levelled, where Adáns Tree and another Log? The present is alone. The memory it erects the time. Succession and trick it is the routine of the clock. The year it is not less vain than the vain history. Between the dawn and the night there is an abyss of agonies, of lights, of taken care; the face that looks in the worn-out ones the same is not mirrors of the night. The fleeting today is tenuous and it is eternal; another Sky do not wait, not another Hell. A clear vision of changes. Ve şarkısı benim için: https://youtube/watch?v=Nba3Tr_GLZU
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 00:52:44 +0000