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prdctvsm

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prdctvsm last won the day on February 15

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    心配ない

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    Bndjlng

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  1. prdctvsm

    poetry

    The Monkey, by Vladislav Khodasevich, Translated by Vladimir Nabokov The heat was fierce. Great forests were on fire. Time dragged its feet in dust. A cock was crowing in an adjacent lot. As I pushed open my garden-gate I saw beside the road a wandering Serb asleep upon a bench, his back against the palings. He was lean and very black, and down his half-bared breast there hung a heavy silver cross, diverting the trickling sweat. Upon the fence above him, clad in a crimson petticoat, his monkey sat munching greedily the dusty leaves of a syringa bush; a leathern collar drawn backwards by its heavy chain bit deep into her throat. Hearing me pass, the man stirred, wiped his face, and asked me for some water. He took one sip to see whether the drink was not too cold, then placed a saucerful upon the bench, and, instantly, the monkey slipped down and clasped the saucer with both hands dipping her thumbs; then, on all fours, she drank, her elbows pressed against the bench, her chin touching the boards, her backbone arching higher than her bald head. Thus, surely, did Darius bend to a puddle on the road when fleeing from Alexander's thundering phalanges. When the last drop was sucked the monkey swept the saucer off the bench, and raised her head, and offered me her black wet little hand. Oh, I have pressed the fingers of great poets, leaders of men, fair women, but no hand had ever been so exquisitely shaped nor had touched mine with such a thrill of kinship, and no man's eyes had peered into my soul with such deep wisdom . . . Legends of lost ages awoke in me thanks to that dingy beast and suddenly I saw life in its fullness and with a rush of wind and wave and worlds the organ music of the universe boomed in my ears, as it had done before in immemorial woodlands. And the Serb then went his way thumping his tambourine; on his left shoulder, like an Indian prince upon an elephant, his monkey swayed. A huge incarnadine but sunless sun hung in a milky haze. The sultry summer flowed endlessly upon the wilting wheat. That day the war broke out, that very day.
  2. Coronavirus: The Hammer and the Dance, by Tomas Pueyo What the Next 18 Months Can Look Like, if Leaders Buy Us Time
  3. time 2 give yr dad a good ol' "ok, boomer", works a treat.
  4. ^ phone lines jammed, & govt. websites are down. scomo has asked us all, " to pray" lol ffs. tradies here too were bangin' away as per usual this morning, & the gym bros opp. my studio were doing their daily boof out, but in last half hour all've gone, so q as a mouse, big storm coming in too.
  5. strayan govt announces economic rescue package, lockdowns, state border closures, & bondi beach closed. their "simple & secure way to access online services" website:
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