Melanka @ 2005-09-12T16: 07:00
Pathetic. Now I've made it so hard to devote myself to writing again and now this (excitedly waving in the direction of the last entry date) Argh. Here I had real fun at the self-talk with the Andalusian water melon and was highly motivated to maintain. Also today is not enough for big words, smuggling of it one an old text that I found in the mysterious depths of my hard drive. It is a poem in itself is nothing special. It was seen only surprising, familiar and strange and weird to me at the same time those words seem today. It seems to me a little sad that I already had 15 such thoughts. But somehow beautiful.
(I'll spare the way from the melodramatic title, is only for your own good ...:))
is gray and barren land, nowhere
happy dance.
Fallout by magic,
it does not break his silence.
All the beautiful songs
died away long ago,
The world lay down,
expected to last.
No bird On the road,
no flower scent in the wind, the water seeped
softly, laughs
nowhere a child.
Since broken the spell, a lonely sound
.
I hear a fine crack,
get goose bumps.
An egg is in the shady valley,
is not the sad standard;
cracks run through the shell,
complete the tender form.
The bird, he wants to live,
breaks the white shell,
in this long death
he sees daylight.
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