DAVID ANDERSSON - SATI - I (Cliptomaniac)

Este som é resultado do projeto de doom progressivo entre do próprio DAVID ANDERSSON com letra do poeta francês Tabris

"I contemplate her, sitting in front of me, immersed in the study of these Vedas of which I know nothing. I will probably never get tired of this moment stolen from time. Stolen from her life. To what extent she is unaware of my presence at this moment. I'm only a shadow for her, spoiling the light of her lamp. I feel like an intruder. Even when she suddenly deigns to raise her eyes and ask me, with a smile, ink, blotter or pen. That smile... so enigmatic. I'm nothing but a chimera. Do I only have the right to contemplate her like this? To watch her thin white hands greedily go through these works ? To admire her passively in this curious quest that she is leading towards a secret that I cannot offer her? These pages, this aged ink, this language, which seems to offer her so much happiness and adorns her with that glow that makes her so desirable, I know nothing about it. And yet, how much at this moment I would like to be her master in order to be able to be part of her universe? Her gaze, so dark, only lights up for this strange world that is beyond my reach. How much I would like to be the sole object of her adoration. Sitting in front of me, so close and yet so inaccessible, she offers herself to my eyes like a marvellous apparition. I am crazy about her, she who ignores me at this moment. I am crazy about her, she who breathes pure magic. But what do I know about her? If not her name? Her name that resounds like the echo of a myth ? That name that resounds like a cruel fate. In silence, I look at her, read and write. To breathe. To exist. And draw a strange line between worlds. Her passion is more absolute than mine and my own universe suddenly appears far too pale to claim to deserve her. I am only a pencyl stroke, when she is inspiration. In my madness, I dream of inventing for her many extraordinary worlds, worlds without laws, but my thoughts are never but drops of poison in my blood. Hers, I feel them more absolutes. In what past and future do they plunge? I would like her to let me contemplate her dreams, her inventions, her wishes and her frailties. I am only a fool, because I believe I see them flowing from her like a river made of gold. And I reach out my hand, vainly trying to grasp them. She is simply beautiful, sitting in this moment facing me, immersed in the shadow of her books. And I'm a madman who goes too far. The threat that hangs over us does not seem to trouble her at all. And I can only dream. Dreaming of saving her, she who doesn't want to be saved. To dream that she saves me, the useless one. Time is short, I know. But it seems that I am the only one who suffers. For her, twelve days or twelve years, it doesn't matter. So, I drink every second of this moment, like a thirsty person, who counts the moments that still separate him from nothingness. I drink every second that Sati's simple vision bewitches me, wondering why she chose me."