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Of those who fed people on the great words no one survived |
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The words are only left |
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Yesterday |
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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 |
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I really am |
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I thought that the sedition was my vocation |
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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 |
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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 |
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Were sounded inside |
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The beast has opened its eyes |
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Great words for those called for dreams! |
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An animal doesn't think about eternity |
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While struggling for existence |
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From the ashes of those who fed people on great words |
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We build the altars |
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Of those who fed people on great words |
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Only these words survived |
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Of those who fed people on great words |
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Only small people are left |
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From the ashes of those who fed people on great words |
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We build the altars |
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I thought |
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I was from those who fed people on great words |
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Nevertheless we are their nourishment! |
