Monday, April 06, 2020

Every motorway a garden

An old inscription in the crypt of the monastery of Santa Lucia de Ponderosa in Galatia reads as follows (translated and adapted):

"The stones shall be upturned, rolled flat upon their faces, great bridges will crack and their bullwarks breakdown, the houses of the rich and mighty shall tremble and the greedy and good will suffer as plagues and ruin overrun the villages. The woodlands shall swell up in green and quash the dragon's fire, the smoke will rise to tell the tale. 

The iron people will see their forges and waterways crumble and their mineral mines shall collapse. The weeds grow wiry and strong across their ruins. Bread will buy gold, water will buy oils, spells will fail to test the conundrum. Wild flowers shall return to their paved over spaces and there will be a terrible silence as nature regains control and the earth mother's  judgement passes across the land. 

All this, after the great wars and the shortening of distances, after the destruction of the dark and quickness of tales passed. Ever the hungry seek the miracle, ever the miracle is between their ears". 

Brother Salonica, 1496.

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