, 23 2005 . 02:57 ()
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... :)
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... ...
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The Dead Unicorn
Enveloped with snow, with the singed-off horn,
My body is lying as cold as a stone...
A hole comes through my inanimate heart,
The things that once lived there have fallen apart...
Oh, absolute quiet! Oh, long-waited rest!
No sound is even born,
The music of spring used to fill this place,
But now his breath is gone.
Birth is a torture here, death is grace,
Just wind only howls here nights and days!..
And blows of the ashes, and fondles my mane
In hope to lift up me to heavens again...
My dearest! The son of the calms and the storms,
How could you get in through these locked-out doors?
I stand on the edge in the light morning haze,
One leap, and I fly through the time and the space,
Grieve not, oh my friend! Life will start all anew,
And upon this way I am always with you...
, -- , , ... :)
__
, 22 2005 . 06:09 ()
, 23 2005 . 02:57 ()
