Saturday, March 20, 2010

Fragment of a Taormina diary

"I would love, as Empedocles did, to die among the Etna fires and to leave just a sandal as a mark of my presence.

I would love to loose myself into the misty horizon, between sky and sea, between Charybde and Scylla.

I would love to fade out slowly, like a fragile photograph when it is exposed to a too bright light.

I would love to die out, like a voice after singing a sublime aria.

I would love to vanish like a dream, like a shade, like a breath.

Hope is gone, it flied away, only pain remains.

Too much calls without any echo, too much silence in my life.

Perhaps it is just a bad day...

Solitude. Love. Solitude. Love.


Philip, Taormina Diary, Hotel San Domenico, March 20, 1895 (unpublished, private collection).

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