In front of them is the changeless rolling plain going down to the river. Some clouds appear and advance together, following one another at a slow unhurried pace. They're moving towards the mouth of the river, towards the unbounded vastness. Their dull shadows pass lightly over the fields, over the river.
From the house on the rise there comes no sound.
Marguerite Duras
From the house on the rise there comes no sound.
Marguerite Duras
Sardegna, April 2006
1 comment:
Greg...why you gotta go and get deep on a brother?
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