Ifantokosmos (woven world)

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Friday Faire:
Marijuanlogues

Arresting the Stone Buddha

Kristi Stassinopoulou “We are flying”

The Lyrics of Kristi Stassinopoulou

Art: Illustrations by Harry Clarke (Thanks Mike!)
Have A Happy Weekend!

Gwyllm

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Marijuanalogues

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Arresting the Stone Buddha
A merchant bearing fifty rolls of cotton goods on his shoulders stopped to rest from the heat of the day beneath a shelter where a large stone Buddha was standing. There he fell asleep, and when he awoke his goods had disappeared. He immediately reported the matter to the police.
A judge named O-oka opened court to investigate. “That stone Buddha must have stolen the goods,” concluded the judge. “He is supposed to care for the welfare of the people, but he has failed to perform his holy duty. Arrest him.”
The police arrested the stone Buddha and carried it into the court. A noisy croud followed the statue, curious to learn what kind of a sentence the judge was about to impose.
When O-oka appeared on the bench he rebuked the boisterous audience. “What right have you people to appear before the court laughing and joking in this manner? You are in contempt of court and subject to a fine and imprisonment.”
The people hastened to apologize. “I shall have to impose a fine on you,” said the judge, “but I will remit it provided each one of you brings one roll of cotton goods to the court within three days. Anyone failing to do this will be arrested.”
One of the rolls of cloth which the people brought was quickly recognized by the merchant as his own, and thus the thief was easily discovered. The merchant recovered his goods, and the cotton rolls were returned to the people.

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Kristi Stassinopoulou “We are flying”

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The Lyrics of Kristi Stassinopoulou

Ifantokosmos (woven world)
If you enter the woven world

you’ ll see many marvels

and like Alice in Wonderland

you’ ll wander in magic

If you enter the woven world

you won’t easily find a way out

and without Ariadne’s clue

you’ ll be trapped forever in the labyrinth


The days go by
the days go by by the waves

like an ancient ceremony

writing poems and playing

with the spiders and the lizards

making coffee for the visitors

on the beach
the days go by by the waves

in a sweet lazy immobility

watching the seagulls fishing

and the cormorans sunbathing on the rocks

talking with the sand, the read,

and the almirikia trees
day by day the sea embraces me gently

sinking me in a sweet, careless

non-existence

loosing myself in time

and my mind rests calmly
beyond the cape the world

the world still exists

beyond the cape the world

still exists without me
with the latest

perfume ads,

poor and meaningless

compared to nature’s scents…

with the straight,

white walls and the arches

of the “rooms to let”…

with the clothes that spoil

the body’s beauty…
and I, here

naked fairy

under the stalagmite tree

the days go by by the waves
like an ancient ceremony

the days go by

go by by the waves

Sol Invictus
Born in the heart of winter

Revived in the fires of June

I come and go on earth

Drawing the sun on his chariot

In a glorious ceremony

I dance to cherish his miracle

In the heart of the fire my picture

every sparkle of sweat my drop

I have many faces

All nations cherished me with fire

I have one homeland left on earth

One ceremony that survived time

Masquerades in sheepskin, light for me the fire

Rolling burning garlands down the slopes

I get carried away by the frenzied dance

Of the people jumping over the fires

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