The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
A tower looks out through the mist hills.
The bird sings
And wet branch of flowers shakes from the weight.
The gentlemen sit
And the wine slashes around the glass.
Bees drink nectar
And shadows drink light.
The dog knocks down chess pieces
And horses run off tracks.
The river cries
And the hills convert it into song.
The firewood screams
And the winter converts it into warmth.
My heart screams too,
And they pretend not to hear it.
My heart screams too,
And you wrap it in a blanket
And shake it
And sing lullabies.
My heart screams.
It is hungry and you can’t feed it.
So you put it to sleep
For a while.
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