Message-ID: <alpine.NEB.2.21.1803312017320.25844@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.wvu.edu>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: song of dutar, lourdes
Date: Sat, 31 Mar 2018 20:18:52 -0400 (EDT)
song of dutar, lourdes http://www.alansondheim.org/westron.jpg http://www.alansondheim.org/dutarr.mp3 dutar do not go gentle into that dark night of the soul at three o'clock in the mourning becomes electra built on rock of ages' long day's journey into the light brigade, faust's charge up the city on the hill where i have lived my life, and that which god finds good and evil in the hearts of mice and men, may go forth and multiply against the lean and hungry looks of dangerous minions in the morning of the world of illuminations of the nights and their red dappled dawns, tolling and toiling for thee, for what is this before me but the dagger in the hart of the lady's lake, what i mean to say is unsaid, ladders and snakes skating the thin ice of our intentions, our caterpillar dreams end where worlds begin, not with a bang but a neighing white horse which is not a horse, just as we never were death take me, carry me away, everyone's hurting the sailor on the sea, not a drop of life left around my neck of the woods, on a snowy evening, good fences not going gently anywhere, but going i think that I shall never see where wilt thou blow over many a quaint and curious volume of the small reigns of kings and queens against the armies of this night unbedded, lost, death comes to the archways in the garden of the good hands made in the bright tygers' naked wheeling in the skies, i'm done, the darkness surrounds us, the belle tolls for me, don't ask one of three whither thou goest, what news from ghent this dawn of april's showers, mourn the tempest, all is lost, our generations' best minds forlorn without mercy