[Louis-Ferdinand Céline:] "Toujours plein de colère et enveloppé de misère, le voici."
Far, far He put everything out of himself We thought that the dawn... We thought that the dawn would never come back again Those days without tomorrow He put everything out of himself We thought that the dawn... We thought that the dawn would never come back again Those days without tomorrow
There, where we lost the ones There, where we yelled a call Absence is the only lover Name me back as everything lasts And where were you lost?
Far, far He put everything out of himself We thought that the dawn... We thought that the dawn would never come back again Those days without tomorrow
All those broken images, dressed with anger and regrets By my misconstruction I may be a god, as I feel all All those broken images, dressed with anger and regrets By my misconstruction I may be a god, as I feel all All those broken images, dressed with anger and regrets
Humans sickly rest aside death Humans filled into the scar The wide open scar, filled into the scar
[Atahualpa Yupanqui:] "La sangre tiene razones que hacen engordar las venas. Pena sobre pena y penas, hacen que uno pegue el grito. La arena es un puñadito, pero hay montañas de arena."
The day makes the word The absence reveals herself Pale and lost in her train of thought A place where germs A thin line reveals the place Place where the link is Sad skin that flows
Absence reveals herself Pale and lost in her train of thought The thin line reveals the place Place where the link is Sad skin that flows
[Rainer Maria Rilke:] "Ces forêts au fond de lui-même, au-dessus de l'abîme, claire, se trouvait son coeur. Il s'abandonnait pour suivre ses propres racines, loin, jusqu'aux puissantes origines, là-bas, où sa miniscule naissance était déjà donnée. Toujours aimant, il descendait dans le sang plus ancien, dans le gouffre, où gisait, gorgé d'ancêtres, les frères."
Wandering Called on this road Which leads to nowhere Which path to take?
Wandering Let them name us And run for shores of dust What will you be?
[Rainer Maria Rilke:] "De chaque chose terrible, me reconnaissait complice en clignant des yeux. Même l'horrible souriait. Rarement, rarement ô mère, ton sourire fut si doux."Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
