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…
There is a beast in me,
Curled up into itself;
Fast asleep…
There is a beast in me;
A giant moving in soft steps,
Shaking off dragonflies from the grass…
A sparkling thing of melancholy,
Like a bluebird on a rusted gate
Singing at the setting sun
Like the band on the Titanic
Slowly going down…
The sun goes down,
Turning the grass black,
And the pink flowers red,
And the water a sparkling confusing mess…
There is a beast in me,
Curled up into itself;
Sleeping to the song in heart
Created by the breeze
Blowing through its ventricles…
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