
A Certain Slant Of Light

Вот так выйдешь на балкон покурить, задумавшись - а тебе позвонят, и поздравят с 55-летним юбилеем. На такие скорости я поглядываю косо:

There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the heft
Of cathedral tunes.
Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.
None may teach it any,
'Tis the seal of despair,-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.
When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 'tis like the distance
On the look of death. - Emilie Dickinson
David Sylvian - A Certain Slant Of Light
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