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Notes from a city of perpetual dawn
The City of the Eternal Dawn
In a lifeless city where wandering souls reside, they await the morning lighthouse’s gentle glow.
Yet the heroes of the epic shall not be resurrected.
The sun’s thin rays cannot reach the depths.
Theseus’ ship decays;
Gilgamesh seeks only withered petals.
Descartes still awaits the green horses.
The Golden Fleece was glimpsed on the banks of the Phasis, rotting.
This is how the Dawn was, and so it shall remain. Do you prepare for war every morning, and why? Every day in the city of Nikoladze, children play with moss in Grandfather Vazha’s Eden. Biological machines depend on the sun’s radioactive rays. The darkness of the absurd is rooted in human hearts.
The Glass Vessel
The waves strike harshly against a discarded, empty glass bottle. The restless sea refuses to yield. Hades struggles fiercely, tirelessly dragging the vessel back toward the cold abyss. He fills the cracked lines of the past, now mere metaphors etched on the glass, with salt water. The body continues to rot within the time-worn city. Others rot beside it. The many facets of the subconscious cast a green reflection. What will become of the girl on the shore? Will the sun’s rays be traded for the moon’s thin pallor? What did your eyes behold beneath this dark, starless sky? Perhaps something like a green bottle, adrift in the moonlight.
Yet another translation <3 And finally I’m back!!