guitar
-
At the confluence of two valleys with a well
And a tall limestone arch
Clay cubes falling around her
And the valley of rock owned by the sky
-
On its western side is a chandelier
She grazes with children and young sheep
She sings her usual song
Her cheeks and earrings reflect the sun
My winding road is paved with gravel
The larks fell silent and flew in flocks not far away
-
I thought that my lumbering steps would interrupt the chants of the chandeliers
But she sang
O passerby, beware of continuing to leave
He turned to the east every sunset
There you will find me waiting in the twilight clouds
Do not go into the fields, for the land will not leave the place
look at me
I embroidered my dress for you with March flowers
Don't go away, I can't catch up with you anymore
I know you don't forget
But I need to remind you
When evening falls
I need you to read me on the dream pillow
-
And she sings
As if a fabric was tearing me apart
A rite, a rite, brushed by her fingertips
And every thread of the soul
Attach it to a fan on every distant star
It is rooted from the bottom of the heart
She knows very well that I am her only lover
-
Its specters play on the valley's lyre
My ribs are hollow and the flute exhales
I am still crucified on the stumps of her voice
Its leaves are tweets that do not escape hearing
I crowned her with love and crowned me with nostalgia
The eyes must produce pure tears
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق