Henryk Górecki – Symphony No.3 (1992)
On a good day I can see Babylonia outside my window. Its fires died out long ago like dozens of other sugar mills in this area. In the evenings the sweet acrid sent of burning cane mixes with the wood fires in the furnaces baking bricks out of the red clay soil, drifting from miles away into my house. Through my windows. Mingled with the scent of burning trash from close by. One kilometer up the road, the vast pit of scooped earth that births those bricks, the eroded remains forming mock desert formations sculpted in red clay. Red clay. […]
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