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…
I've become
A tree stripped by the snow,
A violin with a single string,
An expensive camera capturing in black and white.
I've become
A spiral staircase,
A songbird with a cold,
The blue whale whose song no one hears.
I'm cold.
And my jacket hangs on a high branch of that naked tree.
I'm cold and
I've become
A tree stripped by the snow,
A violin with a single string,
An expensive camera capturing in black and white.
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