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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-04-15 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
He used to cry when light was near
He used to blame the air sometimes He looked behind,he had no fear, But tell me you,was it the right? Turn the pages, turn the stone, Let the water slip away Let the clouds follow their own Could time take a better way? The other speaks about his dream Looking through the silent air His eyes are drunk, he feels so ill But still his soul remains the fair. The spell is everywhere, so deep, The freshness of the hue surrounds, A colour fades and gives them creeps, But other rises all around. So strong, so pure it’s just illusion, So far among the belated words The being shudders of emotion Like in the eyes of long lost lords. An age of smoke, divine perfume ‘Cause even if those years are gone, The body still calls out her name And all their dreams to be alone… It’s over now, it’s late and cold, Moments of love passed them by, But never mind, they must go on They whisper softly as they cry…
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