Wretched by the hearts of the two,
Alone on the road to the side of this woe
Where the high of the soul hit the ground of its low,
And the choices I’d make drag me on under tow;
Blowing winds of the seconds blow the tide of the hour,
Drying hue of the eye once imbued by the shower -
Und die Zeit dieses Schmerzes will daruber noch dauern,
Zwischen uns immer wieder wird noch hoher die Mauer;
Prayers nightly and fearing for the future I’m trumping;
What I’m doing evades me, what I’m feeling dispels me…
Leave me, morning and evening, in the dusks засыпаю -
Self-possessed world of pain, will I quench murky fire.
The hearts of the two
© Copyright: Томас Кромвель, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124091404749
Свидетельство о публикации №124091404749
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