Gegenwart, part one.
Gegenwart As the cold wind on Europe blows and black stone stares at me it seems as the present is the only hope between the dry tomb of the past and the dim banquet of the future. Kings and Queens quickly forgotten, stone and wind longing out there immortal, and the realm of man always victorious even in loss. Silver and gold, silent witnesses of these hard times, number and write the lives of man. I'm one again, in all my pieces like the clouds that linger on a northern day. [Trier, 03-04/2016]