Espaço Verde

“Music. The breathing of statues. Perhaps: The silence of pictures. Language where all languages end. Time standing straight up out of the direction of hearts passing on. Feeling, for whom?  O the transformation of feeling into what?— into audible landscape. Music: you stranger. Passion which has outgrown us. Our inner most being, transcending, driven out of us,— holiest of departures: inner worlds now the most practiced of distances, as the other side of thin air: pure, immense no longer habitable.” (tr. Cliff Crego)