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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-07-29 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | Înscris în bibliotecă de andreea l.
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand I wake in pain I dream of love as time runs through my hand I dream of fire These dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire And in the flames Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire This desert rose Each of her veils, a secret promise This desert flower No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this And as she turns This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams This fire burns I realize that nothing's as it seems I dream of rain I dream of gardens in the desert sand I wake in pain I dream of love as time runs through my hand I dream of rain I lift my gaze to empty skies above I close my eyes This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love I dream of rain I dream of gardens in the desert sand I wake in pain I dream of love as time runs through my hand Sweet desert rose Each of her veils, a secret promise This desert flower No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this Sweet desert rose This memory of Eden haunts us all This desert flower This rare perfume, is the sweet intoxication of her love
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