<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473487" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>As A Day Passes</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As The Days Passes <br>The cemetery on the hill, facing the blue bay, looks inviting in spring sun.<br>A burial procession is coming up the road, the last one before lunch, <br>the priest has folded his hands and think of food. As soon as the coffin is <br>lowered, three the gravediggers go to work. <br>Kisses, hugs, tears and sober handshakes, the group of mourners break <br>up, the bereaved needs to eat too. We are because my wife’s mother is <br>in a hole in the wall with glass door, she came to change the cloth that <br>covers the coffin, but has forgotten the key.<br> I think of my mother, she has been dead a long time, memories of her <br>last years are bleached bones in the human wasteland I have a picture <br>of her when she was young and can now see, she a woman too, I cherish <br>my memories of that time. She had a difficult life, enough said. <br>Why do people drink? I drink to ease the yoke of my own mortality and <br>the whispering voice that mocks me. After a bottle of wine the evening <br>floats by, like a pink cloud on the sky, the scornful voice tires itself out <br>and falls silent, and softly now life is beautiful and full of dreams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473487" data-title="As A Day Passes de Oskar Hansen" data-description="As The Days Passes The cemetery on the hill, facing the blue bay, looks inviting in spring sun. A burial procession is coming up the road, the last one before lunch, the priest has folded his hands and think of food. As soon as the coffin is lo..."></div> </div> </div>

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