Alexandra Manukyan

28.10.14 Unknown 0 Comments














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Marillion - Script For A Jester's Tear

27.10.14 Unknown 2 Comments





















So here I am once more in the playground of the broken hearts
One more experience, one more entry in a diary, self-penned 
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride 
Too late to say I love you, too late to re-stage the play 
Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday 
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts 
I'm losing on the swings, I'm losing on the roundabouts 
Too much, too soon, too far to go, too late to play, the game is over
T the game is over 
So here I am once more in the playground of the broken heart 
I'm losing on the swings, losing on the roundabouts, the game is over, over 
Yet another emotional suicide overdosed on sentiment and pride 
I'm losing on the swings, losing on the roundabouts, the game is over 
Too late to say I love you, too late to re-stage the play
The game is over 
I act the role in classic style of a martyr carved with twisted smile 
To bleed the lyric for this song to write the rites to right my wrongs 
An epitaph to a broken dream to exercise this silent scream 
A scream that's borne from sorrow 
I never did write that love song, the words just never seemed to flow
Now sad in reflection did I gaze through perfection 
And examine the shadows on the other side of the morning 
And examine the shadows on the other side of mourning 
Promised wedding now a wake
The fool escaped from paradise will look over his shoulder and cry 
Sit and chew on daffodils and struggle to answer why?
As you grow up and leave the playground 
Where you kissed your prince and found your frog
Remember the jester that showed you tears, the script for tears 
So I'll hold our peace forever when you wear your bridal gown 
In the silence of my shame the mute that sang the sirens' song 
Has gone solo in the game, I've gone solo in the game
But the game is over 
Can you still say you love me


2 commenti:

Stefan Kuhn

27.10.14 Unknown 0 Comments








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Eric Drooker - painter

30.5.14 Unknown 3 Comments






















Le nubi ripiegano l'ale
al fresco alitar di levante;
sottili tra l'erbe e le piante
oscillano ponti d'opale.

Laggiù non più livido e fosco
color di melmose maremme
ma fra le radure del bosco
il lago sfavilla di gemme.

Risorgi, o mio spirito, imita
il fior de le roride aiuole
già prono dal nembo. La vita
è bella; v'è ancora il sole!

Vittoria Aganoor ( Dopo la pioggia )

3 commenti:

Thor Lindeneg

29.5.14 Unknown 0 Comments

























L’amorosa

Lei è in piedi sulle mie palpebre

E i suoi capelli sono nei miei,

Lei ha la forma delle mie mani,

Lei ha il colore dei miei occhi,

Lei è sprofondata dentro la mia ombra

Come una pietra sopra il cielo.


Lei ha sempre gli occhi aperti

E non mi lascia dormire.

I suoi sogni in piena luce

Fanno evaporare i soli,

Mi fanno ridere, piangere e ridere

Parlare senza avere niente da dire.

Paul Eluard

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