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……The Matter Is The Matter Is Bleeding…Bleeding…
……The Matter Is The Matter Is Bleeding…Bleeding…
PhotoLyrics and Music
I am standing on the threshold
Calculating
The probable time
Of tomorrow's soul…
From only a few grains
Of fulfillment
The herds of dreams
Are growing
How pushing is this lead, likeSolitude
Feeding me with its unbearableSong
And the pitch of darkIs accompanying it gravely
At the end of the lightThe chasm woven by nothingness
The night is falling as an asylum for the old
Leaves are fallingThe trees remain with empty hands
The alleys are windingLong among the tombs
Leaves are fallingThe trees remain with empty hands
As we walk in bare feet on the words
Violently is runningUnder my soles
The pathAnd a hot north wind
Breaks in twoThrough deep marshes
LimpingThe street - non street - the street
But I run, am runningTo catch time by the hand
I can see through things forwardThe draining of the impossible
PleasuresStrangled by the hysteria
Which often visits meI live alone
In the coffin within
Black hours are flowingIn this heavy waterAs if a tree, the AutumnHas grown rusty and has fallen
The melancholy of a sunsetSurrounds me
Thinly, the smokeOf youth is risingI n the past tense
The day of tomorrowShall die
In the night
The hopes endow me withMagnifying lenses
And I feel how the widenessFlows in the oceans
I see the Summer's brideEnjoying it with me
The water game encirclesOverflown colored dragons
Yelling blazinglyThrough their endless nostrils
The world grows blackenedAnd the delicate flowers
Close their windowsIn an infinite desert
Like a clumsy girlThe evening falls on its knees
By the window
Sky with black eyes
Through eardrums the quietness
Lay sleeping in its bedThings are becoming equal
With themselves ...There is still struggling fiercely,
a dragonflyFor a short while ...
Please do not wait for meI will be a little lateAmong the stars
The waves begin whipping
In mirrors of fuel oil
And the freeze is rattling
Its teeth of blackness
The snow is listening at the doorsThe wind beheads the treesTime hangs from my neckLike a millstone
The paths are hardenedBy horses' hoovesIn furrows the EarthGrows ripe
Oasis Libia
Look outsideAnd wash your eyesAs the daysAre baked in Sun
In pale waves
The feelings descend slowly
From above -
Like the yellow angels
From inside the houseWith windows towards Winter
After my children shoutIs running
A stretch of shadowsWhich have become my world
The down bed is wovenOf sleeping anguish
And my eyes are smearedBya cry
The clouds are hangingLike filthy chandeliers
It is raining infinitely and moss and lichen
Are growingStraight on my heart
Poor life,Look how it's trying to stretch time
The North windWith insolent wavingsSlaps my face gently
It is raining infinitely and moss and lichen
Are growingStraight on my heart
And poor lifeLook how it's trying to stretch time
If you know how muchYour love is breaking me,Let's drink from the glass
Of our mendingBefore the time when
Our love kills us!Let's take down the
sadnessFrom the frames
And the silence between usStripping it awayWith a whisper!
Lower from your faceAll of your indifference
And cover with itOur troubles!
Please make hasteAs the distance between us
Is measuredIn years of no light
As water coolingSo is your hot bodyWith poked breastsAs two lamb hornsAnd sweet legsOf a tall swanHow cold it isOutside of youMy soul
Nature is snoring through the ponds
With frogs' croaks
Through vegetable gardens
Melons swollen by idleness
Gather their green skirts
Of stalks
On the way to bed
On the grass, time is playing
In bare feet
The lamp flickers in the tears of night
All the red from my blood is being drained
The questions are walking with their tongues out
Just as vipers, ready to bite
The sky sleeps as a tomcat
With its muzzle resting on its paws
The lamp flickers in the tears of night
All the red from my blood is being drained
The questions are walking with their tongues out
Just as vipers, ready to bite
The lawn dampens yellow
And the light is burning
With shouts of an electronic organ
The flowers have drunk the Springtime
And now they bake in color
The wind is blowing, blowing, and the trees –The trees turn their backs to me
The light hangs heavilyOn the lampshadeAt the window - gratingTenebrously
The chimera walk,Leaning on crutchesThrough the night's budThe stars walkIn boots
The wind is blowing, blowing, and the trees –The trees turn their backs to me
Trees in cadence
Bare feet
The mill
Is milking water
From the spring
The fine tears of the sky
Are flowing
My quietness is measuring
The distance
These black
Departures of my pupils
The mountain exists due to its precipices
Which raise itThe insufferable exists due to the
stonesThat are thrown at the Tranquil
But the poets do not exist due to poems
They listen to the voices of the pinesConveyed by their elders
Through the larksFrom their lips
The Angels are announcingWith Seagull shouts
The above versesThe Spring of History
On a bench by a lakeA kiss
But the lovers are nowhere
... Roses shaken awayBy thoughts
And the night sublimelyRises on its four paws
To the Moon
The water is breathing in reedsThrough reeds
Oh, the soulThe soul bumps on the body
Lyrics by Florentin Smarandache, from the volumes “Circles of Light” and “Dark Snow.”