The sculptures, look each other in adorability, Do they breathe? Before I breathe life into them, they already become stiff whitely, Smiles at their lips are dim like the sea fog under the crescent, Eyes of them fade away like rotten soil beneath lightless gorge. Sculptures that you call love They become just neat and light pieces of stone before they leave my hands. Images that you call love They become the actors of a play which are full of garbled speech.
Can you feel me? What do they talk about?
I stand on the immense rock which no one knows the origin, Listen to all love's whisper.
And I carve the rock. Live eternal after it leaves my hand Drawing the image of love.
I carve the rock slowly. White, clean smile and sigh of regret. I draw this everything. I peel the shall of rock, with the truth's story, I carve the image of love. My eyes see the scene I change the immense rock into the image of love.
Love eternal.
I carve the image of love With my two hands touching wild and cold surface. There is only a precipiceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
