Those delirious ideas of mine that always adores me Cannot come from outside My head is an expanse of spite From which the tributaries of my torrents have Disappeared
Images so coveted when they come to me I would like my mirage to take me Far away, where everything is extinguished Far from the endless days A place where time itself is altered
And who, where checks and neutralizes itself And dries my thoughts into a desert of obsession
It tarnishes the colours of successive centuries Incapable of reactiving his hours He obeys my reigning ideal Arid derision of reason is conceived
Rationality wrings itself of its liquid We will mop up that fluid logic My dreaming was pratically swallowed up But escaped from what destiny foretells When you washed up on my shores Poetry set in on this coast
It is the most sordid, the cruellest That which makes the shores pile up Illusion drinks of what it will lose In this dried-up lake, this dream will drownTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
