Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
These had seen movement, and heard music; known
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.
There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.
Rupert Brooke; 1914 IV: The Dead
A gate to the other dimension, the podcast from and for the insomniac; Hypnagothique #104 – Geigercounterculture 5 ... the new mix is online! Those spoken word greatest; Anne Clark, Maps and Diagrams & Estela Lamat, Felicia Atkinson with Sylvain Chauveau, Caterpillars Dressed In Their Finest, etc....
As usual; free download... or just sit back,relax and enjoy the heavenly voices...