viernes, 3 de julio de 2009

Morrison's lament

Tantos años sin el Rey Lagarto...

Not to touch the Earth,
Not to see the Sun,
Nothing left to do, but run, run, run,
Let’s run… let’s run…

Con todo lo que ello conlleva, fuiste uno de mis primeros maestros espirituales, Jim, y siempre lo serás... y por eso te recordamos como te mereces: escuchando tus lamentos, y lanzando líneas en estanques tranquilos.

For seven years, I dwelt in the loose palace of exile, playing strange games with the girls of the island. Now, I have come again to the land of the fair, and the strong, and the wise brothers and sisters of the pale forest: children of night, who among you will run with the hunt? Now night arrives with her purple legion. Retire now to your tents, and to your dreams…
Tomorrow, we enter the town of my birth.
I want to be ready.

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