Whatever pulled the wind that night
It had it bring a tree down
Untidy lime tree holding tight
To the end of my last garden
One of five against the sky
An elegant surrender
It broke the wall and bent the gate
And warmed us through the winter
Whatever pulls the wind tonight
Will have the roof slates fly
But rows of chimney pots don't wave
Like trees against the sky
The hill behind the old house
I can trace it with my finger
Against the sky I see it still
And draw it down on paper
Whatever pulled me over here
You were the main contender
And with the tress against the sky
Another life's remembered
Some evening skies are yellow
And over my head they're blue
What happened to the green between
It happened to me
Too
Uma música da vashti bunyan que comheci recentemente. Outro candidato para epígrafe.
(Um dia desses eu achei ter achado a epígrafe perfeita, mas esqueci qual era o trecho específico)
Eu gosto do quão abstrata em sentimentos, mas vívida na descrição essa é, e as músicas da vashti são como eu gostaria que a trilha sonora da história fosse. Elas são agridoces e excêntricas(queria muito que whimsy tivesse uma tradução direta), assim como eu espero que esse livro seja.
