Резултати претраге

Nostalgia

From the depth of good times
our loves greet us bitterly
 
You’re not in love, you say, and you don’t remember.
And if your heart has filled and you shed the tears
that you couldn’t shed like you did at first,
you’re not in love and you don’t remember, even though you cry.
 
Suddenly you’ll see two blue eyes
- how long it’s been! - that you caressed one night

We Are Some Disjointed Guitars...

We are some disjointed guitars.
When the wind blows through
discordant lines and sounds awaken
in the chainlike strings that dangle.
 
We are some incredible antennae
rising like fingers into chaos,
on their tips the infinite resounds
but soon to crash all broken down.
 
We are some diffused senses,
with no hope to assemble.
In our nerves the whole of nature tangled.
 
In our body, in our memory tormented.
Repulsed by things and poetry
is the envied refuge.