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There is a white wind where my love was,
An echo in a cathedral,
And the artist, and the nun;
Only a silent frost appears,
Only a heart in pieces
And a handkerchief of tears,
While crossing the Thames at daybreak
Is a murderer on the run.
There is a white wind where my love was,
A monster in the river
And a sermoning John Donne;
If only we knew the ways of the heart,
For entropy increases,
And we manage the carriage the way of the cart,
And the night was never the morrow,
And the moon was never the sun.
I gave my all to love,
Love took away it all
And left me only broken shards
Of hope, and alcohol;
I gave my all to love,
Love span me a dying song,
It went: la la, la la, la la,
Now all I dare claim or possess
Are the shards of hope and lonesomeness,
The alcohol and the last cigar,
And like the sun was never the moon
They shall turn to ashes soon.
I gave my all and swallowed
The cruel effects of love.
I am not bitter, I do not care,
My vision was a wisp of air,
And even time must cease to move,
And lurking inside nothingness
Is God-- and we are there.
23 июн 2024
