yukel

Dreams, like memories, are shores we row toward to escape the ever same tomorrow and their cruel futility. Days which cannot express themselves are grey and cold. Mute days whose untidy gestures tear us apart.

Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions Volumes 2 and 3: The Book of Yukel Return to the Book,   trans.by Rosmarie Waldrop. Wesleyan University Press, 1977

Between thought and word, between the unforeseen dream and the foreseen syllable, there is the call of the roads we will take some day to tame the flaring passion which consumes us. […] Whether following a competent guide or left to our own instinct, we wander within ourselves (up to the point where we are still ourselves, but different) to find the obscure spot which hides the sun and which, we know, is that privileged place where dark and light touch in order to be two and still only one in revealing the universe.

Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions Volumes 2 and 3: The Book of Yukel Return to the Book,   trans.by Rosmarie Waldrop. Wesleyan University Press, 1977