Translated
Show original
Show translation
![Floyd]()
Floyd
Top Review
31
Come Ravi Shankar and play the champaka!
I wonder if she's still here, here in my basement room Someone must have left the door to my homegrow cupboard open, I smell the fresh moist green of the buds and leaves, like a paisley pattern the smell meanders over my mattress. In my mind I close his door again, watch the lamps shine through his slats, the strips of light spinning across the stone floor, cutting the dust vortexes in the room. I do not want to open my eyes
Is this musk that circles like a thin invisible magic in the cosmos? The aura of Ravi Shankar, he plays the champaka like a singing sitar. Makes soap bubbles rise into the sphere, colourful flowers bubble to George Harrison, who plays solos on the flokati, shimmering in the flickering of the threads of smoke, the myriad of incense sticks rising, plunging the room into Nag Champa fog, into sandalwood, flowers and incense.
I wonder if she's still here For four hours the bubble machine buzzed, the psychedelic colours danced, the sounds echoed in the cellar as if twelve pianos were striking a chord at once, first loudly and room-fillingly enveloping everything, then more and more quietly disappearing in the scent of patchouli, dirty, earthy, dusty and smoky, so that I wonder whether this is my cold cellar or the scent of her black knitted sweater in which I am still buried for the next one or two hours.
**
Hippie Spirit fully meets the expectations that the name arouses. After the authentic green grass whisper at the beginning, which unfolds in a hint of musk, the Nag Champa incense sticks clearly dominate, which, supported by the eponymous champaka flowers, make a walking India shop out of you, room filling at first, the impression gradually retreats into a beautiful dirty cellar patchouli fragrance.
(With thanks to Gschpusi)
