....
Stories - VIKTOR LAZLO, 1986
I remember quite clearly now when this story happened.The autumn leaves were floating and measured down to the ground.Recovering the lake where we use to swim like childrenOn the sun would dare to shine. That time, we used to be happyWell, I thought we were, But the truth was thatyou had been longing to leave me, Not daring to tell meOn that precious night watching the lake vaguely consciousYou said: Our story was ending. Now I'm standing hereNo one to wipe away my tears, No one to keep me warmAnd no one to walk along with, No one to make me feelNo one to make me while, OH! What am I to do?I'm standing here alone, It doesn't seem so clear to meWhat am I supposed to do about this burning, heart of mineOH! What am I to do? Or how should I react? OH! Tell me please!The rain was killing the last days of SummerYou had been killing my last breath of loveSince a long time agoI still don't think I am gunna make it through another love storyYou took it all away from meAnd there I stand, I knew I was gonna be the .....The one left behind.But still I'm watching the lake vaguely consciousAnd I know---My life is ending.--------------------- نه ابریشم، که پروانه ات میخواستم پیش از آنکه پود ِ پیله به نشئه ی نساج بسپری .... ....Labels: music
|