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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-12-17 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Teach me, my beloved, how to spill wax on your eyelids
for I shall stop you from seeing this universe, from kissing the monsters of the fake words around gardens and desolated booths, because, today, taciturnity waits among ruddy foils the fantoms which retrieve themselves abandoned. You didn’t change that dirty and ragged raiment, the colours are still in vain and a web hides your soul, imbued by remorses and timeless burning. The sky is clear in this autumnal day… only a few clouds flow from space, when our star falls, burnt by the apathy that lies deeply within us, until death will overcome it.
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