Freitag, 4. Februar 2011

Paul Éluard, 1951

get rise on my eyelids
your hear interweaved in mine
shape of my hands
color of my eyes you absorbed
dissolved in my shadow
like a stone thrown into the sky

she always has her eyes open
and do not let me sleep
she dreams in broad daylight
it makes me laugh

make the suns evaporate
make me laugh, cry and laugh
speechless air i breathe

1 Kommentar:

Blog-Archiv