Μεταξύ τυρού και αχλαδίου

Έκλεισα τα μάτια και γύρισα δυο-τρεις βόλτες γύρω από τον εαυτό μου. Το πρώτο βιβλίο ήταν ο δεύτερος τόμος της Ιλιάδας -δεν είχε σελίδα 123. Δίπλα το ακόλουθο:

l. 40: There's no set place, said he, where we must dwell: an echo of Aeniad VI 673-75, where the Sibyl asks "What region [of Hades], what place is the abode of Anchises?" and is answered: "Nulli certa domus - none has any fixed abode: we inhabit the shady groves, the river banks are our bed, the freshly-watered meadows our dwelling."
l. 82: Salve Regina: the compline hymn to the Blessed Virgin, beginning: "Hail, O Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope, hail! To thee we cry, the exiled children of Eve, to thee we sigh, weeping and lamenting in this valley of tears."

Dante, The Divine Comedy, translated by Dorothy L. Sayers, volume II: Purgatory, Penguin Books 1955.

Η σκυτάλη σε (γμτ πού να βρω 5 τώρα...) fotospatho (γίνεται να ξανακάνει κανείς?), marquise of O., lastnightidreamtthatsomebodylovedme, winter academy, provatos. Ουφ.