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Jan Garbarek in Rome
And so you see him there, on the criss-crossed marble dark eyes out of the north making northern music white light, white wind, white grass and the air upwards so frail a colour the sky might break And you see Augustus turn to Livia, say what talent the man has there for the summoning, look at it, look (you can see Brian Blessed delivering the line) And so he stands on the marble the sky in his eyes the whole sky in his eyes and at his feet, as he looks down the stones of exile rasping, skin on skin. |
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© 1998 M. F. McAuliffe |