Sunday, April 5, 2020

Poem by Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky



"I am a candle. I burned at the feast.
Gather my wax when morning arrives
so that this page will remind you
how to be proud and how to weep,
how to give away the last third
of happiness, and how to die with ease—
and beneath a temporary roof
to burn posthumously, like a word."

~Andrei Tarkovsky

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