Good evening, your highness. How is your sleep now in winter? When leafless walnut trees show their smooth gray bark, Effectively when all the trees...
To be old and white And not ashamed to walk in the rain with a black umbrella, To be obviously painted in white Like an old-fashioned mill, So white...
I. The first dream and the first chant of the young watchmaker It is only this wind’s chant Steeping deep in my ears The enchanting flowers blooming...
it might have been that once upon a time, between lives, I grew long fingers like icicles, as a piano player, I strolled along like the whisper of an...
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Is it life, is it death, is
Posted on Wed, 24 Jun 2015
Is it life, is it death, is it still-life? I like this kind of poems where real things are endowed with special meaning. It is emotion through banality, it is like blooming an otherwise non-magical picture. It is also a hint of mystery...
Is it life, is it death, is
Posted on Wed, 24 Jun 2015
Is it life, is it death, is it still-life? I like this kind of poems where real things are endowed with special meaning. It is emotion through banality, it is like blooming an otherwise non-magical picture. It is also a hint of mystery...
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