Chapter 19
Yann Tiersen
To live outside the pale
Is to wither and die.
Beyond the pale
There are only dressed-up cadavers.
They are wound up each day,
Like alarm clocks.
They perform like seal;
They die like box office receipts.
But in the seething honey-comb
There is a growth as of plants,
An animal warmth almost suffocating,
A vitality which accrues
From rubbing and glueing together,
A hope which is physical
As well as spiritual,
A contamination which is dangerous but salutary.
Small souls perhaps,
Burning like tapers,
But burning steadily
And capable of throwing portentous shadows
On the walls which hem them in.
All goes round and round,
Creaking, wobbling, lumbering,
Whimpering some-tunes,
But round and round and round.
Then, if you become very still,
Standing on a stoop, for instance,
And carefully think no thoughts,
A myopic, bestial clarity besets your vision.
There is a wheel,
There are spokes,
And there is a hub.
And in the center of the hub there is exactly
Nothing.
Pratique seu inglês com o Letras
Comentários
Envie dúvidas, explicações e curiosidades sobre a letra
Faça parte dessa comunidade
Tire dúvidas sobre idiomas, interaja com outros fãs de Yann Tiersen e vá além da letra da música.
Conheça o Letras AcademyConfira nosso guia de uso para deixar comentários.
Enviar para a central de dúvidas?
Dúvidas enviadas podem receber respostas de professores e alunos da plataforma.
Fixe este conteúdo com a aula: