Joy!
There is joy, there really is. And he felt it not as something merciless which rushes on us and puts out our unguarded fire nor as a vertigo which in the double light of irony brings us a bottle and shoes to make us dance - no, what he felt was a quiet, simple, unfounded joy, given rather than granted for an hour, the joy of a man walking over a bridge who will go on singing for ever... But it was enough for the wind to toss a withered leaf at his feet and the bridge was overloaded. |