( via / via )

The Horrors Persist.

"Some blows in life, they’re so heavy . . . I don’t know.
Blows as if dealt by God’s own wrath, as if, ahead,
the rip of every single thing we’d ever suffered
had pooled inside our souls . . . I don’t know.

These are few, but there they are . . . They carve
dark trenches in the toughest faces, the fiercest backs.
Perhaps they’re the racks of barbarous Attilas,
or else the black heralds that Death has sent us.

They’re the steep fall of some Christ from the soul,
of the laudable faith that Fate can make foul of.
Those bloodied blows are the sounds of bread
crackling in oven doors, turning to charcoal.

As for man . . . woe is he. . . woe. He turns his gaze,
as if answering the call of a slap on the shoulder:
his expression is wild and all that he’s lived through
is settled, like penitent pools, in his eyes.

Some blows in life, they’re so heavy. . . I don’t know."

--Vallejo (tr Yvette Siegert)

First ever image of another multi-planet solar system.

"a world of trials
she mends
this autumn eve"

--poemexe.tumblr 11-9-16

Pixelated Landscapes.