Walking to a dead workshop
On December 4, 2019
- Culture of Industry
“My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping.
Did I hear someone tell a lie?
Did I hear someone’s distant cry?”
(Bob Dylan in Love sick)
Liège (B)
The tower where there never justle a bell
On December 1, 2019
- Street scenes - buildings
"When the bells justle in the tower The hollow night amid, Then on my tongue the taste is sour Of all I ever did." (A. Housman, no title, in Additional Poems) Liège (B)
In all innocence
On November 18, 2019
- What has been left
“Little Lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft Wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, Merrily,
We welcome in the Year.”
(W. Blake in Spring)
Liège (B)