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Laipni lūdzam, viesi ( Pieteikties | Reģistrēties )
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Raksts
#1
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Kārto SLIM-us ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Grupa: Biedri Pievienojās: 05.02.04 ![]() |
Yellow Eyes
We've roamed the wild country My beautiful yellow eyes, Side by side we've hunted Shadows dancing on northern skies. There have been times of plenty We were content and serene, Peacefully sleeping Dangers few and far between. We've also known much hunger Ribs protruding from each side, Mournfully we howled When our starving cubs had died. And then there was our first winter Romping thru the glistening snow, Tasting each crystal snowflake Falling gently to and fro. Ah my dear, sweet yellow eyes I've known no greater love, Without you, I am nothing Our wild souls are one. And now you lay there dying Steel jaws upon your frame, Life's blood slowly seeping I whimper your sweet name. Helpless, I watch you struggle Chest heaving with labored breath, Steel jaws clenching tighter Winds whisper the song of death. The blood has now stopped flowing I know the time is near, And you will forever leave me My love, my life, my dear. And now my world is silent Your struggles now have ceased, I lay my head upon you And know you are at peace. Perhaps your soul has lifted To skies where eagles soar, And there you'll greet your brothers To run with them forever more. And someday I shall find you In the heaven's so far above, And when our wild soul's unite There'll be no greater love. Šo rakstu rediģēja Reiki: 07.12.2004 14:08 |
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Raksts
#2
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Sēž zem Šķirmices ![]() ![]() Grupa: Biedri Pievienojās: 28.04.04 Kur: Tornis ![]() |
Klasiķis....
WILLIAM BLAKE (1757 - 1827) THE FLY Little Fly, Thy summer's play My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance, And drink, and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath, And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live Or if I die. LONDON I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning church appals; And the hapless soldiers sigh Runs in blood down palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful harlot's curse Blasts the new-born infant's tear, And blights with plagues the marriage hearse. THE HUMAN ABSTRACT Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody Poor: And Mercy no more could be, If all were as happy as we: And mutual fear brings peace: Till the selfish loves increase. Then Cruelty knits a snare, And spreads his baits with care. He sits down with holy fears, And waters the ground with tears: Then Humility takes its root Underneath his foot. Soon spreads the dismal shade Of Mystery over his head; And the Gatterpiller and Fly, Feed on the Mystery. And it bears the fruit of Deceit, Ruddy and sweet to eat: And the Raven his nest has made. In its thickest shade. The Gods of the earth and sea, Sought thro' Nature to find this Tree But their search was all in vain; There grows one in the Human Brain |
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Lo-Fi versija | Pašlaik ir: 10.05.2025 17:40 |