May Afternoon
Angels fly on landscape
They loan soft tones of its dwellings
Lilac, purpura and golden.
The cold air of its agitated wings
It touches my face
Cold wind of afternoon end
To the few the sun goes leaving
The town stays betwen two spotlights
Half sunlight
Half winter
And hollow one of the times leaves me alone
Circumspect
http://www.jeffbuckley.com/bio.asp
http://dyingdays.net/Jeff_Buckley/links.html
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário
Quem não gosta de um carinho?!...