Poor moon, she is helpless.
We are there already, at home.
Already the diggers' shovels fall and out pours David's silvery tones.
Already fine grass is sown in the groins of volcanoes.
And where to now?
Don't crowd the emergency exits. Moons watch women and women watch the moon.
They are ruled from white sky.
No, it's not shocking, but something embraces you.
This is an ancient curve of life, of love and blood.
Not long ago women were still working with the loom and wove sheets for their wedding bed and shared their secrets with the moon. ...
Seifert, Jaroslav - Casting of Bells (Spirit That Moves Us, 1984)
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