Celebrating Childhood by Adonis
Storyboard Beskrivelse
English 106- Vanessa Hanson
Storyboard Tekst
- Even the wind wants to become a cart
- Pulled by butterflies.
- I remember madness leaning for the first time on the mind's pillow. I was talking to my body then and my body was an idea I wrote in red.
- Red is the sun's most beautiful throneand all the other colorsworship on red rugs.
- Night is another candle. In every branch, an arm,a message carried in spaceechoed by the body of the wind.
- The sun insists on dressing itself in fogwhen it meets me: Am I being scolded by the light?
- Oh, my past days--they used to walk in their sleepand I used to lean on them.
- Love and dreams are two parentheses.Between them I place my bodyand discover the world.
- Many timesI saw the air fly with two grass feetand the road dance with feet made of air.
- My wishes are flowersstaining my days.
- I was wounded early,and early I learnedthat wounds made me.
- I still follow the childwho still walks inside me.Now he stands at a staircase made of lightsearching for a corner to rest in and to read the face of night again.
- If the moon were a house,my feet would refuse to touch its doorstep.They are taken by dustcarrying me to the air of seasons.I walk,one hand in the air, the other caressing trees that I imagine
- A star is alsoa pebble in the field of space.He alonewho is joined to the horizoncan build new roads.
- A moon, an old man,his seat is nightand light is his walking stick.
- What shall I say to the body I abandonedin the rubble of the house in which I was born?No one can narrate my childhoodexcept those stars that flicker above itand that leave footprints on the evening's path.
- My childhood is stillbeing born in the palms of a lightwhose name I do not knowand who names me.
- Our of that river he made a mirror and asked it about his sorrow.He made rain our of his griefand imitated the clouds.
- Your childhood is a village.You will never cross its boundariesno matter how far you go.
- His days are lakes,his memories floating bodies.
- You who are descendingfrom the mountains of the past,how can you climb them again,and why?
- Time is a doorI cannot open.My magic is worn, my chants asleep.
- I was born in a village, small and secretive like a womb.
- I never left it.I love the ocean not the shores.
- Celebrating Childhood by Adonis
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