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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-08-16 | |
THRILL
An ideal is lost In the night of a world that no longer exists, Written on warm marble In a sky with other stars and heavens. From the mist of time, Destiny calls us on the rustle of autumn leaves; Its voice penetrates nature, Blending with the sound of the branches That slowly beat against each other. Lost in suffering, The world carries its destiny Like an eagle that carries its broken wing, Like a leaf on the mirror of a waveless stream, Like a thunder in chaos. No – one sees or feels its shadow, It just passes away like a light breath, Like a dying sound, Like a sparkle, Like a tear shed in vain by an infant… A heart can turn Every painful feeling that may come Into a jewel When its yearning is so deep and pure, Like the eternal thirst For ideals and perfection, Life’s enigma itself… The sad memory of a beautiful dream Rises from the waves of time Like an angel that has been Forgotten in a rose of ice And found again. It seems that a gate is opening from the clouds And, white and pale, Like a shadow, The queen of the night appears. The horizon sparkles And constructions of marble and silent ruins Start shining on the solitary valley. The wind howls Through broken windows and open doors; You think that she has cast a spell upon you And you can hear her voice. When your own thoughts’ voice is silent, You are being caressed by the sound of her sweet devoutness. Then, while floating through the cold mist, She starts calling you. Listen, lonesome eagle! Can you hear her voice?
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