Cercador
Avui
Un relat de: Ainhoa- Compartir:
I com ahir, el dia és gris si no hi ets tu
Les notes sordes
les paraules buides
la vida sense vida
Però m'arriba llunyana una melodia
d'unes mans al piano
I en cada tecla el teu nom escrit
I a cada compás, el teu alè
m'acarona la nuca
Hi ets
Sí
I jo somric
Comentaris
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he vist el teu comentari[Ofensiu]diesi | 30-08-2007
i he decidit passar-me per aquí i llegir-me uns quants relats teus, però he decidit comentar-te aquest en particular. M'ha agradat, no sé, potser pel piano, però m'ha portat records i he escoltat les notes sordes que dius.
un petit detall, no és nuca, sinó clatell...
Doncs això, que el poso a preferits :D
encantada i gràcies per comentar-me!
b#NaT#b
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Biografia:
Barcelona, 26 Febrer 1976--------------------------------------------------------------------
A Charles Bukowski...
BULLET PROOF POET
(Tyla)
As the preacher stumbles from his castle of sin
And his vision gets distorted from the bottle within
But his mouth slurs out the words from a sober heart
They cut deep into open nerves then they tear you apart
This is the ballad of the bullet proof poet
This is the ballad, don't I know it
He gave Jesus tattoos and took the devil's soul
He got the angels drunk and gave them the gutter for a home
This is the ballad of the bullet proof poet
This is the ballad, don't I know it
He loved the most beautiful girl in the mist of wine
A last kiss through cigarette smoke then she quietly slipped of the edge of time
This is the ballad of the bullet proof poet
This is the ballad, don't I know it