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'd like a house on a lake bed
With glowing pebbles and black fish licking my feet.
I’d like a house on a lake bed
Hugged warmly by cold mountains that seldom climb.
And those who climb can stop by my place for tea
And a cigarette or two.
I’d like a house on a lake bed
That freezes over in the winter
And gives me a hard time fishing.
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