Резултати претраге

Figuratively

and I need neither the light from the windows
nor the blasts from the ships lost in fog,
with me will stay all these sorrows,
I will forever remain in the sorrow’s bog
 
I’d forget these gloomy grey Mondays,
I’d be resigned to those tedious days,
if only I could hear your sonorous voice,
If only to run on the pathways as we used to by choice
 
I’d have the smiles from the faces familiar then,
I’d have more of the good news I used to get then,
and so I could see the morning in your eyes,
just to see your eyes waking up at sunrise
 
your breath, the tenderness of the cool arms,
your attempts to make everything right,
but, here and now, the emptiness surrounds,
I am locked in my own memory bounds
 
all these colors - pale blood-red,
all these knots - strongly thread,
just your image would be aplenty for me,
I’d like us to fuse... figuratively
 

Melancholy

Toxins set on their way, and the body is saturated with pain.
Too late to retrieve what's been mixed into blood.
I'd like to forget myself in dreams and dissolve into eternity,
become a black and white day, the kind that goes unnoticed.
 
Draw eyes on a window. Write all your thoughts in chalk.
Why did February bring pain? My body is covered in snow.
Here are other words and verses, someone's thoughts flowing in a stream.
Tell me, what use are these dreams? Why do people always feel bad?
 
I'll forget your name, drinking myself numb1.
I feel the rain out the window, foam licking a dead bird into the sea2
And I dream of home. Empty, sown with salt.
All around, a grey fog, and the cold of a dead sea.
 

• 1. 'filling my eyeballs [with alcohol] to the brim'
• 2. yikes!