The Hermit Without A Home...

This short piece, although a continuation of undiluted feelings of a broken stone, is also dedicated to another hermit Nick Drake .. who tragically never managed to find home. One of the songs is a favourite by this immensely talented songwriter, and the other is written about him by John Martyn.
Both gone, but still shining ...

*

Clytemnestra, the wind is blowing,

On the quays of decorated bells.

Clytemnestra, the wind is blowing,

Have you felt the horrors of the war?

Do you know how to slide on the sweetness of my speech?

Don't you breath the same air?

Don't you speak the same language?

Clytemnestra, the wind is blowing,

Turn your back, cut off the wind.

Clytemnestra the wind is blowing

Turn your back, cut off the wind.

*

A broken stone, the hermit without a home ...

I could be here and now.. I would be, I should be, but how?