Time. track

Time. track

Words proliferate like avalanche, voices are spread
by low tide like golden dust. Times change,
everything takes another hue. Nothing is so
permanent as the change  which is to be conquered
                                         with silence; the silence, as

regulated by Solon, the law-giver, with time. That
is the measure. Seventy years, which is worthy
of a man, as long as the mind cocoons, language
preserves softness, and glorifies creation. That is
                                       the way to the light, breath.

To darkness everything approaches furtively. He who
learns to obey, will know to order, if the time comes
for that. Everything is in words, in the flexibility of l
anguage. Then comes what must come. Goodness
will change the pattern of the stars. With silence.

Achievements are mirrored in words; silence is a
form of speech while time stamps language. With the
years memories grow thinner, words fade out, locks
come loose. What happens with language? The
                cutting edge is in the veil of mist, in sheath    





Шака мрака

Мастило је горко / ink is bitter

Књига промена

У дом за старе стигао је комунизам

Писма осамљеника

Глумци одлазе, сире

Бенгалска ватра глуме

Смрт је ловац самотан

Мачје, мишје и друге

Мирна кућа

Мефистов вез

С љубечитим штовањем

Вечерња благост

Тамни вилајет


Кад те заболи душа

Мали знаци неверства

Човек против себе

Хелена спава с мишицом под главом

Књига постања