She was a blacksmith,
and with her ruffled hands she welded them one,
his ears were bound to her mouth, words and song,
wrapped up swords and twelve months gone,
Their kingdom split. . . the fallen king Solomon,
now he the lamb, and she the python
now Rehoboam I will become
remember my dads words before my heart she won
a screen print I did a long while back, of which there is only one, owned by Carlos Rossati himself.
luckily I found this on a stick of memories retrieved from Stockholm the old home, i hear these days its quite sunny in those icy caverns , the bears have gone and the dark hours are getting shorter.