Of those who fed people on the great words no one survived
|
The words are only left
|
Yesterday I thought the echoes of these words
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Are music inside
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Today I really don't know who I really am
|
I thought that the sedition was my vocation
|
I've started to search for relief
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For safety of indifference
|
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Today I really don't know who I really am
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I hide in twilight of the grey cities
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Drunk with my bitterness
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With the remains of my strength
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I'm trying to detain those dying great words
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I thought that the echoes of these words
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Which are the music of mind
|
Were sounded inside
|
The beast has opened its eyes
|
Great words for those called for dreams!
|
|
An animal doesn't think about eternity
|
While struggling for existence
|
|
From the ashes of those who fed people on great words
|
We build the altars
|
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Of those who fed people on great words
|
Only these words survived
|
Of those who fed people on great words
|
Only small people are left
|
|
From the ashes of those who fed people on great words
|
We build the altars
|
I thought I was from those who fed people on great words
|
Nevertheless we are their nourishment!
|
|
-----------------
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Great Words On The Altars
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| Delight |
