Ashes of the night
(performed in London and several places in Berlin)


after a series of pastels by Barbara Bianchi called Are you afraid of silence in the painting?


Are you
of painting
in silence?

Are you
of roaring
in the dark?

Can you hear them howling?

From the very bottom
of your dark side
the beasts’ cries soar

Wolves, dogs, ravens, apes
and other vultures of sort

Their wail is breaking the skies

Your heart is broken too

Are you not scared?
Can’t you hear them?

You are painting
in the silence of the night
– Your night –
Humanity’s last supper
Nothing was left to eat
No light is shed on earth

Are you afraid?
Can’t you hear them?

Are you not afraid?
You do hear the wild calling you

Your name echoes in the obscure rumble,
in the malevolent spirit of the night.

Are you afraid of revealing your
side to the light,
of throwing your angst at it,
your endless pains
that the night cannot allay

Are you afraid?
Can’t you hear them?

Are you not afraid
when the wild summons?

Are you afraid of giving yourself
to the unknown,
of offering your sorrows to strangers,
your aching and brooding moods
that the beasts will not soothe

They howl for you

They bellow
– for you –
in the ashes of the night

Wolves, dogs, ravens, apes
They bark their bawls
in the darkness of your mind
They eat your brain away

The wild takes you whole
in a far remote realm
where feelings do not exist

N o t a n g i b l e r e a l i t y
N o t o u c h
F e v e r i s p a l p a b l e
F e e l i s f o r g e t t a b l e

Feelings seep through the tight woven threads
but their escape is pointless
Pain explodes on the canvas
Silence encompasses it all

The shadows of the past
The negation of the future
The abstraction of the present

Are you not afraid?

Can’t you hear them beckoning at all?

With big mouths wide open
they wolf down your whole life

Only you keep the meaning
’coz you know
what you don’t want to admit

You know
and you are
but only just
of the light