Love, there are flowers hanging in the vine
Young man,
You have reached by abode as the companion of immortal charioteers
So high you cannot see
And of the mares which carry you. You are welcome
Now my mind must go on holiday
It was no ill fate that prompted you to travel this way,
Torn from its hook, a broken valentine
Which is indeed far from mortal men, beyond their beaten paths;
I see the smoke from a revolver
No, it was Right and Justice. You must learn everything-
Will I get hit? I hardly care
Both the steady heart of well-rounded truth,
And the beliefs of mortals, in which there is no true trust.
When I am bombed, I stretch like bubblegum
Still, you shall learn them too, and come to see how beliefs
Must exist in an acceptable form, all-pervasive as they altogether are
And look too long straight at the morning sun
The point from which I start
Is common; for there shall I return again
Love, there are flowers along the avenue
Come then, I will tell you -and do you for your part listen to my tale
And pass it on -of those ways of seeking which alone can be thought of.
All things perfectly in place
There is the way that it is and it cannot not be:
I build a shrine, I set a monument
This is the path of Trust, for Truth attends it.
Because you’re fire
Then there is the way that it is not and that it must not be:
This, as I show you, is an altogether misguided route.
For you may not know what-is-not -there is no end to it-
Nor may you tell of it.
Because you are a fire escape
(Mixing lyrics of song “Bombed” by Mark Lanegan, 2004 and p. 57-58 of The first Philosophers, The Presocratics and the Sophists by Robin Waterfield, from the chapter on Parmenides)
sedimentary 