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…
On days like these when I feel lonely,
I don’t think of myself in a crowd.
On days like these when I feel lonely,
I think of myself
Alone in a cabin
Amid the soft snowfall
And chimney smoke;
Not seeming to go up,
But staying there,
Growing round
Like a pot-bellied genie.
On days like these when I feel lonely,
I think of myself sitting by the fire,
Humming some obscure tune I heard on the radio...
With the dog lying at my feet
Like a flat tire...
His eyes acrylic...
His snout twitching
As if the warmth is a fly going around him.
On days like these when I feel lonely,
I think of myself
Alone in a cabin
Amid the soft snowfall
And smile at myself.
And for those looking,
They’ll see that my eyes are acrylic as well...
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