“بسم والينا المبجّل…
قرروا شنق الذي اغتال أخي
لكنه كان قصيراً
فمضى الجلاد يسأل…: رأسه لا يصل الحبل
فماذا سوف أفعل ؟… بعد تفكير عميق
أمر الوالي بشنقي بدلاً منه
لأني كنت أطول…”
― لافتات - المجموعة الكاملة
قرروا شنق الذي اغتال أخي
لكنه كان قصيراً
فمضى الجلاد يسأل…: رأسه لا يصل الحبل
فماذا سوف أفعل ؟… بعد تفكير عميق
أمر الوالي بشنقي بدلاً منه
لأني كنت أطول…”
― لافتات - المجموعة الكاملة
“Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?”
― A Hora da Estrela
― A Hora da Estrela
“Melancholia is, I believe, a musical problem: a dissonance, a change in rhythm. While on the outside everything happens with the vertiginous rhythm of a cataract, on the inside is the exhausted adagio of drops of water falling from time to tired time. For this reason the outside, seen from the melancholic inside, appears absurd and unreal, and constitutes ‘the farce we all must play’. But for an instant – because of a wild music, or a drug, or the sexual act carried to its climax – the very slow rhythm of the melancholic soul does not only rise to that of the outside world: it overtakes it with an ineffably blissful exorbitance, and the soul then thrills animated by delirious new energies”
―
―
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
―
―
“MUSIC I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread.
Now that I am without you, all is desolate,
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved:
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always:
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!”
―
And bread I broke with you was more than bread.
Now that I am without you, all is desolate,
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved:
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always:
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!”
―
Skn’s 2025 Year in Books
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