the eternal question (as considered in a light-hearted moment)

Kardamyli September 2017

early this morning there was a glimmer of light in the east, quite a strong glimmer, as it happens, and a mug of tea was before me on the table, and a cock crowing in the west and a dog barking, with another barking in reply, and there was I, looking at the brightening sky, and thinking, and thinking, and thinking – oh my oh my – oh why oh why – oh why oh why oh why?

That is the question Shakspeare, you got it wrong my dear old chap, it’s not to be or not to be: here in Greece, where the thinkers thought, the real eternal question rose like a song but always, always it came to nought, so that still we have to ask, as another flask of glorious golden wine goes pouring down our throats, his and hers and yours and mine, but still the answer never comes - it never did - but it isn’t wrong, still to ask the question, and hear it floating, like a song –

oh why oh why,