58033 blood of a poet

Stalks of barley and black wheat / nod ominously. I race
towards them. / The poet’s pen no longer sings / though it
used to be his nightingale. From „Desk: My Parnassus“ by
Paolo Iashvili, 1932. Translated from the Georgian by
Rebecca Gould.

http://nula.cc/58033
http://soundcloud.com/nulacc/58033-blood-of-a-poet
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paolo_Iashvili

—
57994 nostalgia

It lies down a back street to the hinterlands of memory,
where a gate opens to a foggy yard; wet grass, dripping
leaves. Something is there: sensed, but not seen. Something
old: its shriveling chrysalis exposes a rotting core. It
emits the aroma of corruption. Once a fulsome object of
longing, now hollow, it sighs with the melancholy echo of a
nightingale.

http://nula.cc/57994
http://soundcloud.com/nulacc/57994-nostalgia

—
57970 midnight sun ~

He was looking at the icy water, raging alongside the ship,
thinking how terrible it would be to be left behind in this
world of ice, alone without help, to watch the ship
disappearing into darkness. (Dialogue from the commander’s
diary in the documentary film „Повинность / Confession“ by
Aleksandr Sokurov, 1998.)

1. first light - 2. a shore veiled in mist - 3. night watch
2. over and out - 5. under a midnight sun

Five meditations based on source material used in the earlier
filecasts „a beacon“ and „light on water“ (58 minutes).

http://nula.cc/57970
https://nulacc.bandcamp.com/album/midnight-sun

—
+ main page: http://nula.cc/
+ all filecasts: http://nula.cc/list
+ project information: http://nula.cc/text
+ contact: editor@nula.cc