what would I do without this world without
face or questions where being not last but an instant where every instant
is poured into the void into oblivion
have been without this wave where
end body and shadow together are dipped
what would I do without this silence
abyss murmurs gasping frantically for help by
love without this sky that rises
the dust of their weights
what he would do as I did yesterday and today
looking through the crack if I
just as vague and fled
all
what living in a space
marionetesco,
among the voices voiceless
locked me
Samuel Beckett
* Translation Bruno Cuneo
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