sábado, 11 de febrero de 2017

03 Fireflies



Some places are made of stories,
stories with no happy end.
Some people are made to wait in vain.

It’s hard to explain when you find pieces of your head.

Flowers and trees facing you,
stormy clouds inside your heart.
An old grey wolf howls every night.

Lost in a harbour, plowing the sea.
Smiling without a mouth, learning to flee.

One bad day, you’ll forget
how much time, you have wasted.

I used to sit under a big cedar
before the rising sun could melt my frozen heart.
And I remember the day you came to me,
-only to break my soul-.

Beside my home there’s a lonely railroad,
but I don’t remember if I’ve ever caught a train.
Don’t look for fireflies at the bottom of a lake,
-it’s not a good place to shine-.

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