An English Poem, Written by Graciela Do Nacimento
Baca Juga :At that time
The exact numbers milling about
And a pseudo story.
Describes a night that ended hoarsely
And the morning is decorated with yellow
Then collide late at dusk and orange
And met in the dark night
Sighs the old verse in the dark dark
Shine with the heart-wrenching and mouth-gagging melos of the violin,
Mouth was shut but with a heart that was open to welcome the old story which was written with laughter, happy tears and wounds.
The tone of the numbers and the lyrics that blend in the soul niche that bursts when a name is engraved there.
A name that is not sacred at all but so beautiful to forget.
There, within the clink of an old piano was a dancing soul
Dance to an indelible love
Carved a tale too old to remember
And too cruel to be let go
This is a song,
Simple but sturdy song
Tells a story that not everyone knows what it means
There are only stories and songs that are united in longing that do not fade.
The exact numbers milling about
And a pseudo story.
Describes a night that ended hoarsely
And the morning is decorated with yellow
Then collide late at dusk and orange
And met in the dark night
Sighs the old verse in the dark dark
Shine with the heart-wrenching and mouth-gagging melos of the violin,
Mouth was shut but with a heart that was open to welcome the old story which was written with laughter, happy tears and wounds.
The tone of the numbers and the lyrics that blend in the soul niche that bursts when a name is engraved there.
A name that is not sacred at all but so beautiful to forget.
There, within the clink of an old piano was a dancing soul
Dance to an indelible love
Carved a tale too old to remember
And too cruel to be let go
This is a song,
Simple but sturdy song
Tells a story that not everyone knows what it means
There are only stories and songs that are united in longing that do not fade.
