03.09.2018
River
If one day will come what is missing here for a long timeThe pride will walk away by fast steps and
we will try to play a fair game.
A long time ago they called it 'love'
A long time ago she was happy,
And he would have given her the world.
What a strange time, when vases are empty,
Empty people no longer write poems and a passion
Is agitating of solitude in the corner.
There comes the time to send the lures away,
When you can´t swim even in yourself, the river will pull you down,
In a heavy flow
it looks like you´re not going to win this fight.
Every night I have a dream,
The lure so beautiful, clear and real,
That the confused souls will see the light.
At times when everyone needed just a little,
A piece of meadow and the Sun which warmed their faces,
A pleasant whiff was waving.
So I am asking, if the pride is killing us,
If we can breathe easily,
If we can breathe easily,
when 'either - or' is ticking..
Because I believe in those dreams, I believe in gazes,
In touch of two souls, in touch of two fools,
Who are rather giving more,
Than to take.
There comes the time to send the lures away,
When you can´t swim even in yourself, the river will pull you down,
In a heavy flow
it looks like you´re not going to win this fight.
There comes the time to send the lures away,
When you can´t swim even in yourself, the river will pull you down,
In a heavy flow
it looks like you´re not going to win this fight.