A keresés eredménye

Karma Sutra

I shut up and I don't speak of fear
Calluses on fingertips
I tear off the skin on the tooth
I don't point stars anymore
I don't close or slam drawers
I wash sorrows, trace semiannual goals
 
I pretend, I don't keep secrets
I deny, I don't measure advices
I tear the meat in the tooth
I carry a carnation in my pocket
I forget open doors, I leave footprints
I don't think anything special about wagons
 
I bring it, I don't send messages
I smoke other people's cigarettes
I look over the lens
Do and undo on the spot
I untie my knuckles
One misstep and I fall out of the loop
 
I walk whole paths
I choose the wrong streets
I cut lips on tooth
I draw words on the face
I warm my feet on the deck
I say nothing, I don't even see anything in wagons
 
I sleep and wake up slimmer
Dig a hole, bury myself
Coarse drag chains
Always awake tired
And I twist iron bars
I keep crumbs, live small deserts
 
I get up and sit down quickly
I sit and get up again
I write urgent letters
I was born with closed eyes
I only sleep with the light on, at dawn
I carry the body and miss it in wagons
 
I heat the bones in the fire
Lunch books and records
I wear shirts and combs
Spit seeds and psalms
Crossing the ears
Routes and seas, I buy sails and crystals
 
I trip over the furniture in the room
I prefer small insects
I'm looking for a decent verse
I run and I don't stand still
Shut up, I talk to myself, I think louder
I don't think anything special about wagons
 

High Dawns

When the night plunges only
Into the deep silence of the stars
I write another verse by candlelight
Without any cruise to guide me
 
There's not even a fretful breeze
Slamming the badly locked windows
In the creaking creaking of the stairs
There's no bad thought that escapes me
I hear in the distance the hooting of an owl
And the low of the dawn
 
The wind passes in strange twirls
Turning over what was so quiet
'Cause no one can chase it
Shuffles and twists so many strands
 
Break the slender stem leaves
Goes through even tighter crevices
Peeling paint from facades
Sovereign, no one surpasses you
I hear in the distance the hooting of an owl
And the low of the dawn
 
There in the distance, the storm is heard
Warming that it is already leaving
And that smell of melted candle
It takes the corners of the city
And turns the storm into light
 
In the haze of the flooded streets
I only have the sob of the sidewalks
I will wash my soul in dirty water
I hear in the distance the hooting of an owl
And the low of the dawn
 
The wind passes in strange twirls
Turning over what was so quiet
'Cause no one can chase it
Shuffles and twists so many strands
 
Break the slender stem leaves
Goes through even tighter crevices
Peeling paint from facades
Sovereign, no one surpasses you
I hear in the distance the hooting of an owl
And the low of the dawn
 
There in the distance, the storm is heard
Warming that it is already leaving
And that smell of melted candle
It takes the corners of the city
And turns the storm into light
 
In the haze of the flooded streets
I only have the sob of the sidewalks
I will wash my soul in dirty water
I hear in the distance the hooting of an owl
And the low of the dawn