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…
We sit together
Like peaches in a bowl
Staring at the blue ceiling
With a fan hanging by the wire
Going creak…creak….creak…
We sit together
Like peaches in a bowl;
Smelling of breeze,
And glistening like bald heads,
Like stepped on light bulbs,
Like tears shed on good Friday
By the good Christian;
Not tears of joy…
Not tears of sorrow either…
Just a glistening,
A glow,
A heart hanging heavy over the shivering soul
Like a wet drape…
Slowly drying.
We sit together
Like peaches in a bowl
Staring at the ceiling
With a fan hanging by the wire
Going creak…creak…thud…
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