pestlett's blog on www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com 'Of Man’s first disobedience,...the fruit/Of that forbidden tree.../Brought death into the world.' http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/mp3/3697/3697_rss.xml Aubade Aubade And the fresh dew upon her skin Is a tear-like ablution, To gently clense her soul within: A Regent Absolution. And wavering petals gently rest Above her otios lips, They taper down unto her breast And her hair unto her hips. And ringless fingers grip the earth While her eyes they grip the sky And as I see the sun's rebirth, O why did she have to die. I spread the blackness of her hair Into the field's light green, Upon her face I begin to stare And wonder where she has been. Her face is like the fading moon And her eyes are like the sea, I hope that she'll awake quite soon To inbed her lips in me. Her slender arms, turgid at touch, More the touch of Bernini Than carving of that incensed clutch, Which we call humanity. The bright blue of the heavens gaze Is matching the beauty's own And tears upon her soul now raise, As I leave Bella alone. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Aubade Bore da, Llinos There's a letter I love to lick like lillies. Letting my lucious, lustful labia become labrose. Lick like me, Lolapalooza. Lalling loosens each lingering labium Like lascivious legs, laudable lubricities Laying alone, looking for lovely, lovely lexical lewdness. Although, I despise 'L' - Horrid letter that. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Bore da, Llinos Baghdad 2 You ask how many deaths of theirs would be enough: As great as the number of Iraqi sands That lie on Tigris, hidden beneath the green; The sinking tomb of the old confronting one; The thorn driven deep into the lion's paw? Or must there be many more stars on the ground Alighting the path to eternal darkness? For them to die so many deaths, many more Than you can comprehend from 'civilised roots.' Quae nec pernumerare curiosi Possint nec mala fascinare lingua. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Baghdad 2 Sine te It's very strange, I feel, That I am sitting here, Whilst you, Are sleeping there. Dozed off In Acoma: a bliss; Unseen By the whole world; Unheard In the gentle breezes That limp Outside my door. I thought That one day I saw you, Just there, Within a bush. But, no. It was a Coyote Spying. An eagle wing In paw, And barking silently. Alone, On a hazy journey I fall, And always I'm wishing That you Would have fallen. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Sine te Soppy sapphic bastard Heaven's thunder: never a vengeful fury tearing black hearts, twisting the dying man's fate, but a black lust tearing apart the faithful hoping for release. Darling Gemma, thunder now in a whirling torrent, tear apart hearts bound with a twisted fury; heal me, raise, kiss, hold a moment of my heart because I'm falling. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Soppy sapphic bastard ...quam minimum credula postero... Rising slowly in the east, the sun appears; Orange bursts into the blackness of the west, Pushing down the trembling stars into a dream. Golden is the disc: shining, bringing hope, Warming eyes of living men who seek the day. And I, shadowed beneath a veil. Surging lowly from the world, a wave forms; Soft and slow, rising like a sleeping chest. Swiftly climbing high, chasing a gushing wind, Blocking out the golden sun with black walls, Crashing down upon my head, numbing my soul. And I lie waiting for the next. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/...quam minimum credula postero... Ille caecus lux Ubi tuba clamat Senex puero cadet Ad perpetum noctum Clama tubae tuae Ille caeco luci Et pedibus cadam http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Ille caecus lux Twenty-to-two It's twenty-to-two in the morning: The stars should illuminate the sky, The moon should be crisp like the mountains On a cold winter's morning in France, And her back should be upon my chest, Her dreams should be whispered in my ear, The smell of her hair should be drifting My thoughts to a dream about her. Still twenty-to-two in the morning. Will this evening, ever have an end? Will the stars ever shine in my eyes? And when the moon is a mountain-crisp, Will she be here next to me? The sun has risen with the morning, And a legion of birds sing with joy. I hear lovers kiss to the sunrise, While young children swoon to the beauty; But still you're not breathing beside me, My whole life's now counting to the end; The time: twenty-to-two. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Twenty-to-two questo nel mio cuore: Asserisco, Lamento, Tagli Penso c'è un gioco che m'ami. Ridi alla suo battute Speri ch'egli bacerà solo te Mentre io guardo e piango Non posso dire questo a te Perché son vigliacco d'amore. Ti amo, ma palpito di paura Perché odo un cuore batteva http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/questo nel mio cuore: Asserisco, Lamento, Tagli Just don't do it again. Just don't do it again, please. Don't play with my heart saying, "Uccidere! I did it again! How silly of me!" Nor ever play with the strings of a wooden Uccello. Just don't do it again, please. Don't fondle my life thinking, "Mai Dee, m'aider, Dee mai? I'm waiting for you to help." Nor ever beat on the drum of the Gra-Ting sleeping near. Just don't do it again, please. Don't shadow my sun, praising Iuppiter in place of Ra or Senef for the Amun. Nor ever pray at my feet, calling my toes the Pillars. Just don't do it again, please. For the biggest of my toes, Can never make Shahadah; Nor can the smallest Zakat; Though the others fast and pray, The pilgrimage leads to you. Just don't do it again, please. I'm not worthy to worship or destined to deliver. So it is all forgiven and it is all forgotten. Just don't do it again. Please. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Just don't do it again. vorrei ma non vorrei vorrei leccare la tua bocca, ma la mia labbra sono male; vorrei toccare le tue pelle, ma la mia dita sono rotto; vorrei pregare ai piedi che lavori tanto bene nel sole; vorrei sapere tutto questi segni, ma la è che ho tutto fatto. Sappi questo: ti amo più che il male che il sole fa e rompe. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/vorrei ma non vorrei Green Eyes Now as I wondered down a trodden path Where many feet had trembled slowly by The grimy green of wooden shrubs, Saw I beauty I once held? I ne'er could tell but for the greens, If love I held for you, my love, was true; When leaves can merge into my beauty's face, Can madness be far behind? Though all above my head is blue. And as my travels led me by a brook Where many lives have sadly sunken down The grimy green of Algae waves, Saw I tears that I once dried? Though all I saw was black in green, A sadness floated past my heart as swans Submerged into the depths, reviving green; Could I go with them beneath? For pain's within my heart of bronze. So now to step into the darkest green I ever saw, since first I saw your eyes Look out beyond your snow-peaked face; Could I really join you there? In liquid greens as fresh as eyes That ne'er have left my loving thoughts of you; As coldness cuts my throat beneath the waves, See I beauty once again? Though coldness bleeds me through and through. Reviving fresh into the silent day: With pain my eyes they shake with fear to see The blue that always was above; Can I e'er replace your green? When leaves and plants and living things Remind me of those eyes I've loved, and how They showed my heart a love as deep as seas; See I love in other hues? But only life can show me now. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Green Eyes Has that boy gone Sonnet crazy! Why, yes, yes he has. The Robin Upon a branch, within a tree outside my window sits a Robin laying low, his sallow eyes: a sign to all who cried when winter showed its face to them, that now the leaves begin to grow, some birds chiffchaff while others warble, blasting dawn with song. The flower heads induce, with love, a laugh as red as wine, as blue as skies that throng above the English lakes outside my door, where lovers roll upon the banks so green and children laugh just like they did before the bitter cold had settled down unseen. The Robin soars into the blue filled dome, this vernal joy has sent him flying home. The spring is a tidal bore Though the old man dies, the new child is born To a world of love, to a world of death. On the Tigris, the flowers bloom untorn, While in his bed, asleep, Bahaar's last breath Is to curse mankind, while praising the earth. On the Indus, two brothers waging war Will remove the beauty and means of birth; Though they'll stop and pray to the springs new bore Then they'll fall when the wave has surged them past. And in the silence of a narrow fjord, The lonely fisherman reeling his cast, Sees all the beauty the others ignored. The Spring's rebirth is unique to the year; By the next rebirth give reason no fear. Well, almost; I suppose two doesn't really cut it as CRAZY, but I supposedly guess it'll have to do, I guess. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Has that boy gone Sonnet crazy! Of voices, moods and us I am passivated by you: When my soul is torn by your eyes; When the fan is hit by the shit. And I have activated you: When your soul has slept in its lies; When my tongues have prowled in your clit. We were subjunctive to the world: When they wished, we were torn apart; When they bleated, we weren't to be. Grammatically balanced by verbs; The actions that speak of our lives. Latin me has a few things taught, Beauty in a difference is found: Laws Grammar's our hearts they all own, Our hearts Laws Grammar's they make change. Me you with lips must a kiss give, Mess call you this grammatic a; Love like that is, us like that are. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Of voices, moods and us The echo in my sleeping cave "Beatus! Beatus! Beatus!" a chant that my ears they have yet to hear. "Felice! Felice! Felice!" they toll in my mind; once again I plead: "Confuto! Confuto! Confuto!" they're heedless to mercy, but they're open to joy. Cado, cado, cado to depths ne'er seen by mankind; Spero, spero, spero to see the light again shine; Scio, scio, scio the fall will end in black death. And so, and so, and so; and so I die. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/The echo in my sleeping cave I know love, you live to watch I would love you to love, to love a lover; But my love, you just love, to love another. So I watch, while you watch that watch: his face, And I watch you watch that watch to its place; And I know that you know, I know your heart; Do you know that I know, you know my part as you live is to live, and live so well? I live while you live for to live is hell. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/I know love, you live to watch Life minus you It's like hunger: A sudden vacuum forms in the bowels, And my airless chest heaves outwards; My limbs gradually, like a stream trickling from its source, become numb, yet tingle like a memory; My throat is a dried salt lake that remembers the pleasures of rain amidst its cracked remains; Neither a sound is stuttered, nor a photon uttered, as my senses fade away; And the mind I possess grasps upon one thought, one moment of blackness within the grave, As my skin tautens to the cold damp dew And the muffled steps of feet above, Set my heart to a nervous twitch that shudders and stops with an empty pain. And like hunger: My whole body yearns for sustenance, which can only be found in your laugh; And for ten minutes of the day it comes, When my aging body reverses it course, As my bowels explode, and my chest is drowned by a tsunami of air; The stream gushes back towards it source, And the sky once again weeps above my throat; The crisp crackle of the air, The bright blinding of the light; And the mind I possess grasps upon one thought, one moment of bliss within your smile; My skin still tautens, but to your warm loving touch, And my heart still twitches, but is filled with the echo of your laugh. And like hunger: You left, only to come again. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Life minus you Aphoristically A-Okay When one is young; one can never become what one dreams, and neither can one dream of what one is. If one cannot bear lowering a friend’s casket into the grave: one should cremate them. If parenthood were child’s play, then they would do it themselves. When nature kills it is an unfortunate event; yet when nature saves it is an act of God. If their sound is ‘so modern,’ why can I hear Beethoven in their melodies? I loved, indeed I still love, yet I will never love again. The parents love both their parents and their children; yet they are merely an arch beneath a footbridge connecting the two. If procrastination were really a crime, then all the greatest thinkers would be gaoled for all time. If the aurous pot were really so inviting, then the miser were a fool to keep it. Music is the Mother of the soul, and its wolfsbane. Education is merely a formality; yet they preach ‘Education, Education, Education’ and not ‘Knowledge, Knowledge, Knowledge’. Knowledge is merely a formality; yet they’d preach ‘Knowledge, Knowledge, Knowledge’ and not ‘Understanding, Understanding, Understanding’. Understanding is merely a formality; yet they’d preach ‘Understanding, Understanding, Understanding’ and not ‘Life, Life, Life’. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Aphoristically A-Okay Just some random poo that was in my head I am a liar. I lied just then, and here. The truth is a very promiscious goat, in field of its own shit and breeding; I simply happen to live away from the dung and the chatter. The fields are rarely green and the sky is rarely coloured. I percieve them whatever they are, but I deny them for what they've been deemed to be. I am an axe, or a broom -- if you like. My head has been changed countless times and my haft is of a different oak, of a different tree, than that which I was born with; Yet I am that same, I chop and sweep the same, perhaps my swing and brush has altered, but I am the same. I have not changed, sir; I durst not change, sir; I drop and rise across the z-axis, or the x-axis; take you pick which, though never indicate that I move across the y-axis. For the spine of the L, gives way to bad deeds. I am a lying axe, or broom, and I'm wondering why She would laugh and cry and cry and laugh? So long merry an' warm days. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Just some random poo that was in my head Clam Clamorously Amorous for Three-an'-tha' Den-E I ne'er had dreamt I'd dream again In fields of green and golden hues, But love had dreamt her dream of pain, 'Neath subtle clouds, which clung to light And softly faded from the night; As bitter thoughts had thought they'd lose The pearl that shone the seasons' joy; My pearl was bright and beauty lay Deep within her heart. She spoke of life and living things, And thought of bunnies bouncing free, That with their hops had hope to bring: A true reflection fading fast, That spoke of now and ne'er the past; And though I loved, she loved not me. Her heart now pounds her prison cage And beats another note that plays Love within his heart. I daily pined and prayed that she Would grace this hour and hide my woes, But though I dreamt and dreamt of we, A light beneath another shone; Her love for me: dismayed, forgone, Was wrapped within his idle toes That lay asleep while she did ride Upon his 'grown' and 'goodly' home; While tears swelled my heart. And though my love is lust in name, And though old time can temper lust, I know my soul shall say the same, When heat is cooled and caution raised, For when she smiles my soul is praised; With love in her I hope and trust, That love will grow and greatly bloom, But love she makes to men full grown; And shuns this boy's heart. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Clam Clamorously Amorous for Three-an'-tha' Den-E NaangFa (See Thai language, can't upload the characters) I am still undecided on the stanza order and some line/word choices and there is no grammar in there as of yet, but here's something I wrote last night because I couldn't sleep. Also beyond is off on the stress, so it would have to be forced and I'm still not sure whether I like it or not... I love you too much to lay down to love Though hearts may once more adhere to the hope Of beasts in their prime and birds up above All searching again for something with scope A scope that lies beyond all meaning I feel, as of late, that frost is my friend But warmth from your body's wilting my will And etched on my mind: an evasive end That catches my mind and claims I will kill I'll kill to wean the end of all feeling I'm thinking of you, though trying each time To fade your image and feed to the fire My creed of true love, but courage must climb Both heedless and free of hope to aim higher And higher I'll fall as cupid he tires Your Persian like skin impresses upon Your brown scented eyes, which beckon for breath An omen of lust that ousts but just one And deigns to perceive the darkness of death A death that beckons my own sweet pulse I love and I long for love in my life But deep in the darkest dirge of my Den I sleep with a song of sadness and strife My God, she has given grief once again A grief that longs to sleep in the Den http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/NaangFa (See Thai language, can't upload the characters) ... just stop, reverse, play again and say again what you said to me just then; it went like a cathrine wheel attached to Homer's spokes in the greatest of human comedys. there it is again, it came and has now gone. i doubt it'll ever stay but say, just say it, say it one more time. yes dear, i love you too. ------------------------------------------------------------------- in-it, quit us? not never would we dare to cease such a thing ommm, nay, pray sent a word or two of healing thoughts fall sigh dolls that is where they lay and what they are http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/... just some random crap you say, 'all men are bastards; they're all the same' and your right, of course in your, oh so covert generalisation that is as real as the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky on those sundry days when lust nor greed can proffer the sleeper's creed then shall i say, in my own general way that you, woman, are indifferent to my love that you, woman, are lovers to men other than me that you, woman, want an oak tree to lean upon on those sundry days when heat beats down with the storm that you, woman, forego all mortal joys because i am not tall enough, i am not thick enough i am not man enough -------------------------------------------------------- Though silence is dead On sheets in my bed I still see her head And hear her bark When I breathe my last As the heat is past Then her heart I'll cast Into the dark But I wonder why I will never sigh When these tears I cry Like Cutty Sark On her last voyage -------------------------------------------------------- If the sun-seed fell and grew on earth When the April showers reign; Would my garden burn or bloom with speed? Would I lose and would I gain, All the love or all the pain? And if holy men can make their rite, When lovers lie in their eyes Like a memory: tussive and trill; Can I ever gain that prize, For which all lovers will rise? http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/just some random crap Nubes calcabo si vis They're hardly awake beneath thy brow: the dark and scornful screams of night that proffer fools unto their graves and leave the wise but to wonder, how? How on an eve so calm can a love, which offers naught but mortal joy, escape thy hands and leave a peace that can set asleep the gods above? I would never dare to tread thy path, where feet and pebbles scrape and rap upon the silent world around; though deep in the darkness there thou hast a love that weeps, but is tightly bound and ne'er hast thou found a love that will lead thee from the path. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Nubes calcabo si vis A famous extract from Augustine's Confessions - Liber X Sero te amavi, pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova, sero te amavi! et ecce intus eras et ego foris, et ibi te quaerebam, et in ista formosa quae fecisti deformis inruebam. mecum eras, et tecum non eram. ea me tenebant longe a te, quae si in te non essent, non essent. vocasti et clamasti et rupisti surditatem meam; coruscasti, splenduisti et fugasti caecitatem meam; fragrasti, et duxi spiritum et anhelo tibi; gustavi et esurio et sitio; tetigisti me, et exarsi in pacem tuam. Here is my first translation, please don't be too harsh, but I think it brings across a small part of this beautiful piece. If only a small part of the meaning is caught, then I think I have succeeded. I've tried to keep as acurate to the original as I can, words like now (nunc), at all (omnino) and that (illud, well illum, really)from 'that breath of air' are not in the Latin, but I feel the English needs them to make sense. Too late, I loved you - beauty so ancient and so new, too late I loved you! and behold you were within and I without, and there I searched for you; and in beautiful things, which you made, I rushed ill-formed. With me you were, and with you I was not. They held me far from you, which, if in you did not exist, they did not exist at all. You called and shouted and ruptured my deafness; you flashed, shone and routed my blindness; you smelt sweet and I drew that breath of air and now I gasp for you; I tasted and now I hunger and thirst; You touched me, and I burned in your peace. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/A famous extract from Augustine's Confessions - Liber X Ad tu Amabor, si vis, et si vis, lacrimae quae fecisti, cadant ad cordem meum Cor meum, plenum lacrimarum, est semper tecum Vivabor, si cor vult, redundat enim effundit e terram Cor tuum, plenum formae, amarer semper tecum http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Ad tu Miscellaneous cat5-crimp-esque stuff
Should ever we walk on the silver dawn
And merge with the sun beneath the earth:
May I kiss your lips and proclaim your worth
And never emerge ‘till the sun’s reborn?
Nothing’s lost, unless it were in ones heart -
The twitching within that is tightly bound,
Hauling my thoughts and my lips far apart –
And everything lost is by-and-by found.
Jessamine leaves with their Evergreen glow
And Amore with its flames all aglow,
Never approach the ardour in your smile:
Eternal, gentle, as rich as the Nile.
Do your wandering thoughts ever trip on me? Enwrought in blind supposition I cry, ‘Never will I yearn like this ‘till I die,
Never will she yearn to the same degree.’
Yet I cry ‘neath my laugh and I laugh for three.
I felt her soft and gentle lip
Sweetly kiss my brow,
And as my hand caressed her hip
She sat upon my bough
And shook my leaves ‘til they did tip
Her love to disavow
The heart she place with her sweet lip,
So sweetly on my brow.
And all that I have now:
A phantom of her curvy hip
That never will allow
The honey-maze of her pink lip
To lie upon my bough.
If love and life and wine and snuff
Were all that I would need
I’d live my days, love my hours
And laugh each time I’d bleed
I’d kiss you now and ne’er let go,
Nuzzle in your flowers;
All that I can seem to do is
Be the man who cowers.
http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Mai roo non so nescio A small soliloquy-conversation
A small soliloquy-conversation, which was inspired, by of all things, Listz's La Campanella, I must listen to some Paganini, if he inspired that song he must be wonderful... I was going to label these ΣΤΡΟΦ ΚΑΙ ΑΝΤΙΣΤΡΟΦ, but I don't think they fit the bill exactly, mainly because the ending of both of them, anyway:
I
It was evening, when first I nuzzled abreast
A returning old matron, cock-sure the west
Would re-blacken the sky that is ever lost
Like a priest, at his mother’s, at Pentecost;
And I asked the lady, ‘What is it, your name?’
But she reached quiet deep in her pockets, for shame
Had absolved the girl she once was, and with light
From a lamp I rekindled the blackened night.
II
It was evening when he fell to my chest breathing
Like a schoolboy in love, whose love is unsheathing
In his room at night, and asked – for I was nameless
To his thoughts – my name, and, because he was blameless,
I released my hands to a black and encottened
Warm pocket and thought of my love all enwottoned
With such words as ‘serveth’ and ‘not’ though I palely,
In a lapse of sense and of worth, fell to daily
Darkness.
 http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/A small soliloquy-conversation TreSamTria So as the leaves of love sweep by, My love is swept away in breaths Both short and harsh, and life will ne'er Again be sharper than this pain, And life will ne'er again submerge Beneath a sea of tears this deep. Yet hope is whet within her eyes, Not blunted by their many turns Against the grain of love, which bled Upon a sheet, not long ago, And bled for years through cries of joy. But now she's done with hearts and love And I can hope for nothing more Than kisses freely kissed to all Who pucker up and swill her glass. But list, O list, to thoughts of mine, Which yearn to touch, to hold and have Her eyes, her eyes that glimmer bright And speak of hope for love renewed, Which sleeps within her coffee eyes. If strength of Gods-immortal seeped Within my veins, my words of truth Would falter not, my thoughts of troth Would ever seep into the blood Of Gods-immortal. Love not me Nor love eternity, but love Without a word, a thought, a breath That blows from moments dead and gone, And love ne'er blowing blind toward A road beneath the mists of time To be. And now, now love the now And know I may not love one kiss Beyond a kiss, but sweetness know A kiss is all the time there is, For kissing lips so soft and warm Is life's fuel for feeding love. I'm not too sure what this is yet, I've just writ it here and I feel sad, I think I'm too scared to read over it. http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/TreSamTria De meae merdae A te e loro, questo dirò: Sei pensoso agli altri uomini ma a me tu sei spassionato e assente dal mio compagnia. Se niente chiedi, dunque, niente a te nego; ma non come Cinna tu chiedi, dal me, tu chiedi per niente e fai tutte mie lacrime cadono. Dunque t'odio e t'amo e voglio morire perché tu vivi con loro e non mi. Ridete perché voi lascerà. Ma allora dico niente ma se e ma: nemo me potuit tangere: merda sum. ------------------ Mi scusi per mio l'italiano e le mie parole http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/De meae merdae Soft Silk Grass
If thou speakest truth and thy heart
Hath troth enough to fill my glass,
‘Til my seeping blood and thou art
One;
If thou hast love enough for none
But lips, which expresseth, alas,
A love that doteth long upon
Thee;
If e’er I wotted what to me
In darkness may cometh to pass
When thou hast rent thy soul to three
Men,
Shall thee, I ever love again
Or yearn with tears ‘til soft silk grass
Wendeth around my shredded mane?
 http://www.fullmoonemptysportsbag.com/blogs/pestlett/Soft Silk Grass The Northern Line